Rescue Me From Hell
by Wren Roxen
Summary: All the Destiel in between the lines of the show brought to life! Because it's better when it's not just in our heads. So... what's really going on between the older Winchester brother and the angel who fell for him? Based (mostly, with a lot of additional things) on the canon but written with my Destiel glasses on. An assbutt amount of angst (of course). M later.
1. Some Angel You Are

_(Author's Note: There is a **part one** to this story – which can be found here: **/s/8576115 **It's based in season 2&3 [Wincest fic]. This story is written so if you don't read part one, it won't matter.)_

_**04x01 ("Lazarus Rising")**_

There were flashes, and at first, they were vague. Dean couldn't explain it – random twinges of ghost pain, short shots of endless screams, the fear in unknown faces – but gradually he put it together. Hell. He couldn't remember what it had been like, he just had the few clips to go on, but he feared it would all come back to him eventually. Already, the images scared him, even without context or reason. This was _Hell_ he was remembering, nothing got worse than that. What exactly had happened down there? Things that would come all in good time, and then no doubt haunt him for the rest of his life.

_Well, if I have all my life to worry, I won't bother right now._ There were a lot of things he needed to sort out, which was surprising because, really, he'd only been gone four months. Yet he felt like the world had changed. He'd gone down fighting, and woke up with the battle done. Lilith was still out there, somewhere, and although they didn't need to go after her anymore, Dean still wanted to kill her. Returning the favour and all. Which reminded him...

"The night that I bit it, or got bit," Dean began, laughing at his reference to the hellhound who'd killed him. Funny how it was funny now, because he didn't have a limit on his life anymore; he was just free to go about his business without counting down every ticking second. Sam, sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, didn't seem as amused. "How'd you make it out? I thought Lilith was gonna kill you." This was a complete blank for Dean. She had made it clear that both brothers were going to die. So how had Sam managed not to be dragged down too? Had he fought her? Had Ruby somehow saved him? Or Bobby? Lilith was so powerful, it just didn't make sense.

"She tried," Sam admitted. "She couldn't."

_I got that much, thanks. But why not?_ "What do you mean, she couldn't?"

Sam explained that she had tried to kill him, but her power had been ineffective on him for some reason, as if he were somehow immune to it. "I don't know who was more surprised, her or me." Dean was glad Sam had made it out, but how could he have been stronger than one of the toughest demons they'd ever met? He recalled Ruby tempting Sam to use his psychic powers to save Dean, and wondered if it had to do with that. He asked what had happened to her, but Sam just told him she was gone. _Good_. But there were more important things than Ruby on Dean's mind. Namely, how he'd escaped Hell.

You can't just waltz out of Hell, with a contract on you, and who knows how many demons trying to grab a piece of your soul. So who or what had bargained him out, and for what price? Was Dean doomed to live some cursed life now, or did he have to serve a demon the rest of his days? Bobby seemed suspicious of it, but Dean really had no recollection of anything, anyone, freeing him from the pit. Still, he worried, because some unknown thing wanted him back on Earth, and there were endless possibilities as to why, for what purpose.

Bobby's psychic friend, Pamela, had talked to some beyond the grave, and had come up blank too. It seemed that the underworld either hadn't been involved or, Dean thought was more likely, were just holding back. Pamela suggested a seance, which was a nerve-wracking idea, but if they could just _see _the being, that would be something to go off.

Pamela set the table in preparation, and they sat around the candles warily. Dean hadn't done many seances in his time, and though they usually weren't anything horrible, this time felt different. Likely because whatever they were trying to see, could at will pluck souls out of Hell. It was powerful, and it could undeniably send them back down without effort if it desired, just because they wanted to see it.

"Take each other's hands," Pamela instructed. Sam held his hand cautiously out to Dean, who took it awkwardly. When Sam had been very young, he would sometimes hold Dean's hand, and, being very young himself, he'd had no problem with it. But by the time he was seven, Dean was already becoming the hardened soldier he was, and to set an example, he stopped the childish business. Now, things were different. For one thing, whereas Dean's hands had been twice Sam's size then, it was reversed. And also, this was strictly business. Even holding hands with a girl was silly in Dean's mind.

"I need to touch something our mystery monster touched," Pamela said, teasingly crawling a hand up Dean's leg. Dean jumped back, knocking his knee off the table.

"Woah!" he said defensively. "He didn't touch me there." Pamela laughed as Dean shrugged off his shirt and rolled back his t-shirt sleeve, revealing the hand mark. Sam, who hadn't been made aware of the mark, shot a distressed glance at Bobby, who just frowned vaguely. Dean winced when Pamela touched him, then took Sam's hand again, their eyes connecting. Dean could see questions pouring in, and they didn't need words to communicate. _Why didn't you tell me? _Dean could hear.

They all closed their eyes then, focusing. "I envoke, conjure, and command you," Pamela began chanting. "Appear unto me before this circle." It took a moment, but there was a reaction – the TV turning on, buzzing white noise. _Just like at the gas station._ Pamela was mid-sentence when she paused. "Castiel?" Dean glanced at her in wonder, but she was hardly with them, in another world. "No, sorry Castiel, I don't scare easy."

"Castiel?" Dean asked. _We aren't getting your feed, Pamela. What are you talking about?_

"It's name," she explained. "It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back." Castiel. Dean almost thought the name was familiar, that maybe once a million years ago he'd heard it somewhere. But he had no idea where, if he had. Pamela was continuing on. "I conjure and command you, show me your face!" The table began to shake, and the three others began to worry. Bobby suggested they stop, but Pamela was insistent. She called out once more, and then she screamed.

They watched, amazed and horrified, as her eyes shone bright white, and then she collapsed. Bobby and Dean hurried over to her while Sam called the police, and Dean was disgusted by what he saw. Pamela's eyes were closed, but around them the skin was burnt and raw and bleeding. She opened her eyelids – and her eyes were gone! They'd been burned right out of her skull.

_What just happened?! _Had she seen it? _What the hell kind of thing burns your eyes out just from _seeing _it? _Was it angry, or was it something so powerful that humans couldn't even look at it? Dean had never heard of anything like that before though. And the look on Bobby's face said the same. _What in the hell are we dealing with?_

"

Dean spent hours searching through books, his dad's journal, anywhere that might hold the name he was sure he'd seen somewhere. Sam was reluctant to help, but his curiosity got the better of him and he admitted that he felt he'd heard the name before too.

"I dunno, it sounds like a badass evil demon name to me," Dean said as his skimmed through a particularily old book. "And the guy seems to fit that descriptor." Burning out eyes with a peek, and the power to return the dead, plus whatever had happened at the gravesight, that was all they knew about him but damn, that was intense. However, as intrigued as Dean was, he found himself getting drowsy, the words he was reading swimming around on the page. Eventually he slumped forward, breathing heavily and almost totally out of it. But just before he was, he felt Sam's hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him back to lean against the pillows, and then he dropped out of consciousness.

He hadn't yet sunk into deeply lethargic sleep, and an abrupt loud noise was enough to heave him back into reality. He rubbed his eyes, looking around at the glaring light of the TV – white noise. The radio had come on too, squawking randomly and flipping through stations. Dean jumped up, arming himself, preparing for whatever it was – because it seemed that Castiel had come for him. _Come out you bitch. Talk to me._

Just then, the ringing started up, unnoticed at first but then gradually turning into a deafening scream, scrambling Dean's mind. It was a great defense for the demon, because it forced Dean to drop his weapon, covering his ears and falling to the ground. All around him, glass began to shatter – the windows, picture frames, and then the mirror ceiling above his head crashed down on him. He was mid-attack by means of shards of glass when the door flew open and Bobby was there. Then everything was gone.

"_What just happened?_"

Dean remained huddled on the ground, holding his hands fearfully over his head a moment longer. "I don't know," he gasped. "I think – I think it was him. Castiel." Dean explained about the pattern – TV and radio interference, breaking glass, the thunderous squeal. "I think he's close. And I also think he wants to talk." Dean wasn't totally sure of it, but he'd just been thinking, edging the demon to come talk to him when the scream picked up. He wouldn't put it past the thing to be able to read minds. "Bobby, it's time we summon this thing."

Bobby looked very unsure. "Where'd Sam go?"

"Dunno, I'll call him. But we have to do this," Dean pressed. "He's gonna come to us sooner or later, might as well come on our call." _And now's the best time, without Sam. He doesn't agree, he'll just get in the way, and he could get hurt._ He cared about Sam's safety, and at least one of them had to survive if they were going to be fighting this thing. _If we fight it._ Dean wasn't sure they would be fighting, because... Well, it had saved him from Hell, there was a small chance that it was for a not-terrible reason. Although Dean found it unlikely. How often were the things he dealt with friendly?

Bobby still didn't seem open to the idea, but he let Dean take him out anyway. Dean called Sam and lied, saying they were going out to get a beer. Bobby asked why he'd lied, and Dean explained shortly that Sam would just try to stop them.

"From what?" Bobby asked slowly. He already knew the answer.

"Summoning this thing." Dean had gotten his life back, he wasn't just going to sit around wasting it. He wanted to know what the price was, and he didn't want to end up paying interest.

"You can't be _serious_."

"As a heart attack."

Bobby tried to argue, but it was futile. And Dean almost sensed inquisitiveness in his voice. Bobby wanted to know what was going on just as much as he did, and though he feared for his life, it was in his hunter's blood to want to chase the damn thing. So, after locating an abandoned barn, and spending an hour redecorating with every possible Devil's Trap they knew of – and then some – they began the summoning ritual.

"This is still a bad idea..." Bobby muttered.

"Yeah, I heard you the first ten times," Dean returned. When the ritual was finished, Dean was disappointed to find no results. Nothing happened whatsoever. They sat and waited, but a minute, two, five passed and there was nothing. "You _sure_ you did it right?" Bobby just glared. He knew it wasn't Bobby's fault, he was just impatient. He was just about to suggest that they try again, when there was banging on the roof. He jumped, looking up. The boards on the roof were loose, and rampant, as if a sudden storm had crashed in.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind," Dean said, trying to stay calm. His heart gave him away, pounding nervously. It was coming. Castiel. The lightbulbs overhead smashed, sending sparks and glass flying, causing both men to cringe. Then there was a loud thud as the barn doors – which had been barred – broke open, and Dean caught the silhouette of a man. Sparks lit him up in glimpses, revealing a dark-haired man in a beige trench coat. Although he somewhat lacked confidence, he exuded power. Dean and Bobby held up their guns defensively, watching – stunned – as the man walked through every single Trap towards them, staring purposefully at them. They fired, but the bullets were wasted – they didn't even slow him down. Lowering their weapons, Dean and Bobby shared a nervous glance as they realized that they were wholly unprepared for this.

Dean stepped towards the table on which the demon-killing knife sat, snatching it up and backing away from the man. He was between Dean and Bobby now, which was to their advantage.

"Who are you?" Dean asked him fiercely. He studied the man more carefully up close, noting the ruffled hair, brilliant blue eyes, the haven't-shaved-in-a-day-or-so stubble. What stood out more was how he didn't look mildly malevolent, just admiringly curious, almost... friendly. _We're talking about a guy who burned Pamela's eyes out for kicks, remember._ But there was something about him that Dean just couldn't place, that made him feel like he wasn't facing a demon. In fact, it felt like he was far from a demon – he just radiated... goodness. Dean wanted to trust him, and he felt... he wasn't exactly sure what. _It's a trick, a trap. He wants me to think he's on my side._

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition." _What? _The voice was rough, but the words he chose were outdated. _Sounds like something Bobby would say, what's up with that?_

"Yeah, thanks for that." The man nodded slightly, giving him a small smile, jumbling his thoughts. _What demon can smile that sincerely?_ But Dean, afraid his head was being screwed with, stabbed the blade into the man's heart. And... it did nothing. Without a change of expression, he removed the blade from his chest and dropped it to the ground. Then Bobby took a swing at him with an iron crowbar, and without turning, he raised an arm and stopped the hit – with one arm! Against Bobby's full weight! Dean was almost as impressed as he was petrified. As he watched, the man raised two fingers and touched them to Bobby's forehead. This apparently had significant value, because Bobby dropped like a fly, unconscious – or dead – on the ground. The man gave him a curious glance, then turned to Dean, who was stunned. He remained harmless in appearance, but Dean recognized that this was a serious misjudgement. Anticipating the same fate as Bobby, Dean braced himself.

Instead, the man simply said, "We need to talk, Dean." He glanced at Bobby. "Alone."

Did that mean he'd wasted Bobby, just so they could talk uninterrupted? He turned and went to admire their things, picking up a book and paging through it, giving Dean the chance to check on Bobby. He wasn't going to try and attack – he didn't even know how to. They were surrounded by every Devil's Trap on earth which had deemed ineffective, he hadn't even blinked at the demon-killing knife, had taken the impact of Bobby's full strength – which, despite Bobby's age, was still a lot – in his hand, and knocked Bobby out with the touch of his fingers. This wasn't exactly an evenly-matched battle.

"Your friend is alive," he told Dean casually. What did it matter to him, whether he'd offed another human? Demons lived to torture and kill, why would he be bothered to stop Dean's worrying?

"Who are you?" Dean hissed.

"Castiel," he answered, without looking up.

"Yeah, I figured that much," Dean retorted. "I mean _what_ are you?"

This caught Castiel's attention. His gaze turned to Dean and, expressionless, he told him, "I'm an angel of the Lord."

Dean was stunned. This hadn't been the answer he'd expected, and he'd answered so flat-out plainly that it seemed almost true. _But that's not possible. Angels – they don't exist. He's lying._ It did explain why Dean felt like Castiel wasn't malicious. And then he remembered where he'd heard the name – in the damn Bible! Was he a demon, posing as an angel? Was this all part of his scheme? Dean rose to his feet, leveling with Castiel. He was almost comforted that he was taller than him, but a few inches really had nothing on Castiel's abilities.

"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."

Castiel turned to face him fully, and allowed a small smile. "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith." Just then, light crashed into the room, illuminating everything, erasing every shadow. However, the shadows of wings appeared sprouting from Castiel's back, although there were no actual wings to be seen. The light lasted a second longer, and then cut off. To Dean's surprise, Castiel seemed to deflate slightly, wincing and hunching, as if the feat had exhausted him. _Why would he do that if it took so much out of him? It only seems to weaken him, and for what, to prove to me that he's an angel?_ Castiel stared, waiting expectantly. _He did that for you, trying to gain your trust._ And something more... His approval?

"Some angel you are," Dean sneered harshly, then added, "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

Castiel looked down shamefully. "I warned her not to spy on my true form," he uttered regretfully. "It can be... overwhelming to some humans. And so can my real voice. You already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the hotel?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded. "That was you talking? Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

There was a hint of an apology in those intensely blue eyes. "That was my mistake. Certain people - special people – can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."

_The way he talks, it is almost reminiscent of Biblical speech. Although he seems to be updated within the past hundred years. _"And what _visage_ are you in now? Holy tax accountant?" Dean glanced down at the trench coat and the blue tie peeking out underneath.

"This?" Castiel toyed with the trench coat. "This is a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?" Dean asked, wondering how the hell that even felt for the man.

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this." _Who in their right mind prays to be possessed?!_ No one would willingly give over control of their body, let alone _want_ it to happen.

"Look pal, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?" Dean asked, growing impatient. There was someone trapped inside that body with a demon, a very damn powerful one at that, and time was being wasted as they just sat around talking. Dean wanted answers, and he was sick of hearing lies.

Castiel frowned. "I told you." He looked so innocent, it reminded him of Sam, who could use those puppy-dog eyes and have anyone fall for his words. However, that card was over-played on Dean, and it had lost it's affect.

"Right, and why would an _angel_ rescue me from Hell?" Nobody would, no human nor demon nor spirit, nothing. Not some high-and-mighty angel either. Why waste their time on someone who's just gonna die again some day anyways? And specifically, why _him_?

Castiel stepped closer, brow furrowing further. "Good things _do_ happen, Dean."

Dean searched his eyes, and there was nothing false there. This guy was talented. "Not in my experience," Dean said quietly. _Not in the past twenty years. Not when your mom dies and then your dad spends the rest of his life hunting evil spirits and leaves his kids to fend for themselves, and you're left to grow up into the same terrible life, without any reward. And then you and anyone you care about dies._ No. People didn't just do things for him. He never got money, never got a thank you, let alone his _soul _returned from Hell.

Castiel was a foot away from him now, his eyes desperately seeking answers to questions of his own. Dean could feel his presence, as if even the air around him was under his control. Being this close to him, he felt almost nervous, his heart rate picking up. "What's the matter?" Castiel asked, sounding honestly confused. Then his eyes widened as he seemed to find what he'd been wondering. "You don't think you deserve to be saved."

The way he said it threw Dean off. There was no criticism, no humour, just blatant bewilderment and pity. As if he truly couldn't understand why Dean didn't find himself redeemable. As if he saw something in Dean that _was_ redeemable, and he thought it was obvious, and Dean should see it too. _But there's nothing good enough about me, and nothing enought to raise me from Hell._

Dean gave him a half-hearted smirk. "Why'd you do it?"

Castiel stared a moment longer, eyes filled with wonder, and then it all – every emotion – disappeared. "Because God commanded it." _God? No way. Thousands of people die daily, why would he want to bring me back all of a sudden? And why did it take four months for him to suddenly care? Why would he single me out?_ "Because we have work for you." And with that, Castiel vanished.

_Where'd he go?!_ He heard Bobby stir behind him, and went over to him mindlessly. His thoughts were elsewhere. Everything about Castiel, everything he'd said... It was all too much for him to take in. He wanted to hate Castiel, he felt compelled to, but at the same point, he felt the perplexing opposite too. He wished he could put his faith wholly in Castiel, which was very unlike him – to trust.

"What happened?" he heard Bobby ask in the distance.

The past few moments filled his head in a blur. "I... don't know," Dean muttered uncertainly, feeling vulnerable and not wanting it to show. Because his life had just become a chaotic mess.

_Castiel happened._


	2. Far From Normal

_**04x02-4 ("Are you there God? It's Me, Dean Winchester", "In the Beginning" "Metamorphosis")**_

Dean struggled with the idea that Castiel had been trying to sell him – that angels existed, _God_ existed, and they needed his help. For one thing, what the hell could he do that an all-powerful God couldn't? Why would an angel seek him out? That just didn't make any sense to Dean whatsoever. And then there was Castiel, an entirely other mystery that Dean couldn't manage to wrap his head around. Dean had noticed that when people were possessed by demons, they obviously acted different, but they also looked a bit altered. They were darker – not physically; they just came off as more evil – and maybe a bit uglier. Especially with those hideous black eyes they had. But Castiel, he wasn't like other demons. He was almost... beautiful. Not just his vessel – although, Dean supposed the vessel wasn't a terrible-looking guy – but, something about whatever was possessing him seemed to make him more glorious. _Inner beauty?_ Dean thought sarcastically. Maybe though, maybe it was because what was inside him _was_ something so good, so magnificent, that it shone through even his vessel. Dean found this idea to be humourously ludicrous, and scolded himself for honestly contemplating the possibility. _If that's how it worked, I'd be one ugly bastard, and that is not the case._ Yes, Dean hated himself, hated everything about himself, but it was undeniable that he was what many people considered to be "attractive", and he was aware of it, and he used it sometimes to his advantage. But he was pretty sure that Castiel – angel or otherwise – wasn't interested in his appearance. He wasn't sure what Castiel wanted from him, but it likely wasn't his body.

That led Dean to other worries. Castiel had claimed that God had "work" for Dean. What did that even mean? What did you do when God came calling? Whether Dean believed it or not, he had to at least consider that option, because on the odd chance that Castiel was telling the truth, Dean had to be prepared. He had to think of how to politely say no to God, without getting himself sent back to Hell.

He was starting to remember more and more about Hell, mostly in the form of nightmares, although sometimes when he was awake. Random things back on Earth brought up images of the torture, and the name _Alastair_ seemed to be tied to the worst of the memories. Dean had hardly been alive three days and he was already beginning to go insane. To keep himself distracted, he was reading as much as he could on angels, because Sam and Bobby were convinced Castiel had been telling the truth, and if he came back, they wanted to have as much knowledge backing them up as possible. Undoubtedly, Castiel knew all about them.

They weren't given much time before Castiel showed his face again. After a ghost attack was made on a few hunters around the area – which Bobby had figured out to be something called the Rising of the Witnesses, and was supposed to be a sign of the apolcalypse; on top of everything else that had happened since Dean got back, this was pushing him over the edge, because what, now the world was ending too? – Castiel appeared to Dean in a dream, congratulating him on their work with the Witnesses. This only pissed Dean off.

_You knew about this and you didn't come help us? If you're a damn angel, you could've stopped this a lot easier than we did!_ On top of that, Dean had almost got killed, _again_. "I thought angels were supposed to be _guardians_," Dean seethed. "Not dicks."

Castiel's answer left Dean slightly dazed. "Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God – I'm a soldier." He barely seemed offended at all, and he made Dean feel so inferior to him. Yet at the same time, he made it clear that he was just doing what he was told, he couldn't help them unless he was instructed to do so. "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder," Castiel continued. "We had larger concerns."

"_Concerns?_" Dean asked, amazed. As if he could so casually pass off the deaths of humans as _concerns_. _Concerns_ were when you thought there were peanuts in your food, and you would get hives if you ate it; _Concerns_ were when you misplaced your phone, or didn't have change for a parking meter. It was not a _concern_ when people were being killed left, right, and center. That was a _huge problem._ But maybe that didn't mean anything to angels because they were better than humans. The favoured species to God, no doubt. They could go back to Heaven where everything was happy and perfect. "And by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss? If there is a God," Dean added, because he still was having trouble believing in Castiel, let alone God.

"There's a God," Castiel confirmed impassively.

"I'm not convinced," Dean pressed in irritation. "'Cause if there's a God, what is he waiting for? Genocide? Monsters roaming the Earth? The freaking apocalypse?! At what point does he lift a finger to help the poor bastards who are stuck down here?"

"The Lord works-"

"If you say 'in mysterious ways', so help me, I will kick your ass." Dean's heart jumped nervously as his mind caught up with his words. First, he highly doubted he could beat Castiel in a fight, and second, the guy would probably smite him before he even got the chance. Also, he was threatening an _angel_, which was probably in a book somewhere entitled "Lots of Nope". Fortunately, almost amusingly, Castiel just threw up his hands and looked away, cracking the tiniest smile. Dean for a second wondered if he was about to get bitch-slapped, but then Castiel returned his eyes to him and waited for Dean to go on. He seemed to be expecting something from Dean, and he backtracked quickly.

_The apocalypse... Were we right? Is it really happening? _Castiel had shown up around the same time they'd guessed Lilith was bringing on the end of the world. He pitched the idea to Castiel, although it came out a bit angrier than he'd wanted, still simmering over the lack of help from God and his army.

"That's why we're here," Castiel admitted. _We?_ "Big thing's afoot." _As in, world-ending big, because when have angels ever gotten involved?Not even when we opened Hell's door, and I'd consider that to be pretty big._

"Do I wanna know what kind of things?" Dean asked warily.

"I sincerely doubt it," Castiel answered. "But you need to know." Because for whatever reason, Dean had to be involved with this, although he had no memory of ever signing up in some damn war for God. "The Rising of the Witnesses," Castiel explained. "is one of the sixty-six seals."

_Meaning...?_ Dean didn't get the Heaven Daily newsfeed, and if this was some Biblical reference, then that wasn't helpful either, since he'd never really found it much of a bedtime story. "I'm guessing that's not a show at Seal World."

Castiel wasn't amused, and if he was, he didn't show it. _What's up with him? He's so lacking in... emotions._ Dean wondered if that was an angel thing, or just Castiel. "Those seals are being broken, by Lilith." _You've got to be kidding me._ Lilith was nothing but problems. She'd killed him, she was one of the most fearful demons, and now she was breaking seals... although Dean didn't know what that really meant. "Think of the seals as locks on a door," Castiel told him.

"'Kay, last one opens and..."

"Lucifer walks free."

_Lucifer. _Dean was familiar with that story. The archangel, God's right-hand man, until he wanted to be equal to God, and was sent out of Heaven, and became the ruler of Hell. Satan, the Devil. King of all evil, the biggest bitch there was. Yeah, Dean knew about him. In fairy tales.

"I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday-school," Dean said aloud, studying Castiel's eyes, but the guy had walls around his walls. "There's no such thing."

"Three days ago you thought there was no such thing as _me_," Castiel reminded him. _And I'm still wondering._ "Why do you think we're here, walking among you now, for the first time in two thousand years?" Dean stared at the shorter man, unnerved by how weak he felt near Castiel. He was defenseless against him. Castiel was stronger, more intelligent, ageless, and positively beamed supremacy. Something about how dominant he was... _That'd be such a turn-on if he was a chick... Is this really the time, Dean?_ But he just made Dean feel like a child, in a good and bad way.

_Answer the question Dean, stop thinking about how hot he'd be in bed if he was a girl._ What was the question? Oh yeah, why the angels were on Earth for the first time since Jesus – according to Castiel. "Lucifer," Dean answered guilelessly. He was distracted from the converation though, feeling perturbed by the way that this angel was pushing his thoughts down that road. He had never once thought of a guy in a way like that, not even that a guy would be hot as a woman. The idea grossed him out, because he was straight. He liked his females, plain and simple. It pissed him off how buzzed he felt around Castiel. And, even though Castiel really hadn't done anything wrong, Dean took his anger out on him. _You angels are here to stop Lucifer, huh? _"Well, bang-up job so far," Dean scorned.

"We tried," Castiel said coolly. "There are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one, we lost." Dean rolled his eyes skeptically. _It's only the end of the world, don't worry. If we don't win, there's always... oh wait, nothing. There's nothing if we lose._ "Our numbers are not unlimited," Castiel continued, aggravated, advancing closer to Dean to ensure his attention. Dean stared into his eyes, which were burning intensely. This was knowledge to Dean, because he'd always imagined if there was a Heaven, there would be endless amounts of angels. But he was having difficulty reasoning out anything because Castiel was very close to him, and something about being inches away from the angel was very disorienting. Maybe getting so near to a being like this was overpowering, just as it was to see or hear him. _Even in a vessel, I guess you have to keep your distance._ Dean wondered if Castiel knew this and was using it to his advantage.

"You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around?" Castiel hissed scathingly. Dean leaned back, feeling dizzy as Castiel pushed ever closer. _Has this guy heard of personal space?_ "There's a bigger picture here," Castiel went on without noticing. It was only more awkward that he didn't find it awkward. "You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell, I can throw you back in."

The mention of Hell got through to Dean, and he stared at Castiel apprehensively, unable to contain the sheer terror of the thought. _You can't. You wouldn't. _Castiel's eyes said otherwise. It would be without difficulty or regret. _But they need me, Castiel said they need me..._ Dean couldn't comfort himself, and then, to make matters worse, Castiel vanished, adding finality to his threat.

Dean woke up terrorized, trying to piece his mind back together now that Castiel was gone. He wondered if all angels were as complex as Castiel – in the two times Dean had met him, he'd found him to be utterly confusing. Most of the time he seemed like he was just a soldier as he'd said, but sometimes he would crack. Dean imagined that he himself came off the same way to Sam, because he knew that he held a lot back from him, and sometimes his brother saw through his act. But why would Castiel be doing that? Who was he hiding from? Did he think he couldn't show emotions in front of Dean because, what, Dean would think he was weak? Dean doubted the possibility of an angel being weak, ever. So maybe it was something else. Maybe angels weren't supposed to have emotions, or at least, they were supposed to repress them, because emotions clouded judgment. If you were emotionally involved with something, you asked questions first, you didn't just follow your orders like a good little soldier. So was it God's will, that his angels couldn't feel? This was a theory, but of course Dean wasn't sure. When it came to all this angel business, he had millions of questions and virtually no answers.

He sat up, wondering how Sam could possibly just believe in all this, even before they'd had proof, even with no answers or evidence or anything. He frowned, shaking his head subtly, and Sam noticed.

"You alright?" he asked, half-laughing as he pulled on a shirt. When he saw that Dean was serious, he grew concerned. "What's wrong Dean?" Dean sometimes wondered how Sam had grown up to be an over-protective mother. Usually, it would annoy Dean, but with the fear over Hell hanging over him, he took comfort in his brother's care.

"So, you've got no problem believing in God and angels?" Dean wondered hesitantly.

Sam shrugged. "No, not really."

"So I guess that means you believe in the devil." _Or rather, Lucifer._

Sam didn't seem to be following Dean's train of thought. "Why're you asking me all this?"

Dean just stared at Sam, almost jealous because Sam could just accept angels and Lucifer and not even bat an eye, because he'd always believed they were real, and there was nothing to question. And it didn't even make sense, because Sam always questioned things, Dean was the one that just accepted what he was told. But now wasn't the time to be worrying about these things. He explained to Sam what Castiel had told him, about Lilith and Lucifer. He left out the part about Castiel being able to send him back to Hell, and Sam assumed Dean's fear was directed at Lilith's plans.

"We'll catch her, Dean," Sam promised. "She's not gonna touch you, I swear, we'll kill her."

"How are we gonna do that, anyways?"

Sam frowned, but shrugged. "We'll figure that out, alright?" He paused, then changed the subject, trying to relieve Dean. "So, this Castiel... he have something against coming down here in person?"

"I don't wanna talk about him, Sammy," Dean told him uncomfortably. "He... I dunno, he freaks me out." _And he offered to buy my ticket to Hell._

"What do you mean?"

"He just does." _He messes with my head, he doesn't care about humans, he threatens my life, and he turns me on. _What wasn't creepy about this guy? Dean couldn't even stand in the same room with him without the guy taking his toll in some way, whether he meant to or not.

"You're not telling me something," Sam persisted. "Dean? Did Castiel... what else did he say?"

"He's just weird," Dean explained shortly. "He... I dunno, I guess his angel mojo... it does things. Y'know how seeing him burns your eyes out? Even in his vessel, he's still damn intense." He could see Sam wasn't following. He didn't really know how to explain it. "It's like, he messes with your mind frequencies, sort of like power lines screw up EMF meters."

Sam nodded. "That I can understand. That's incredible... I still can't believe you've met an angel, and this is your reaction to him."

"They aren't as great as you make 'em out to be," Dean told him. "Seriously, dude, at least not Castiel. Cas." Dean found that saying Castiel was exhausting, and he was already getting tired of it. Sam gave him a weird look, but he just shrugged. "I'm calling him Cas. If he has a problem, tough." It was just a nickname, Cas couldn't send him back to Hell for that. _Right?_

"How come he only comes to you?" Sam wondered. "I mean, did he ever tell you why they brought you back? And why him? Why did they send Casti- Cas?"

Dean shook his head. _Too many questions, dude, slow down._ "I guess I'm back because of the apocalypse, but he never really said. And I dunno why it's him. They've gotta have a hot angel up there somewhere, but maybe they figured I wouldn't take a babe as seriously."

"They got that right," Sam smirked. "Actually, some angels have certain... I mean, they are in power over specific things." He pulled out his laptop, and Googled "Castiel". "I don't know why we didn't do this earlier... Here, look! It says Castiel is the angel of Thursday, for one thing. And... Yes, you were brought back on a Thursday." He grinned, amused at the well-thought-out planning of the angels. Dean rolled his eyes. _Who cares?_ Congratulations to Heaven for having some order, wasting their time organizing their little angels when they could be helping the world down here. But at least they sent the coordinating angel to rescue Dean on the right day.

"I'm gonna go get some breakfast," Sam said. "Okay? Dean?" Dean shook his head lightly, trying to return to ground level.

"Uh, yeah," Dean muttered. "Cool. Don't forget the pie."

"

A few days later, Castiel returned yet again, and to Dean's surprise, sent him back in time, with the parting words "You have to stop it." Dean found himself in Lawrence, Kansas, and set about trying to stop the yellow-eyed demon from making a deal with his mother, but he was unsuccessful. When he found himself brought back to real-time and saw Cas, he couldn't help yelling at him. _What the hell was the point of showing me all that? Making me watch my grandparents die, my mom selling Sam's innocence, why? If I couldn't stop it, why..._

"Destiny can't be changed, Dean," Cas explained. "Now you know everything we do." He glanced at Sam's empty bed. Wait, where _was_ Sam? "We know what Azazel did to your brother, what we don't know is _why_." Dean asked Cas where Sam was, sick of hearing the pointless jargon, and was given an address, with a warning, "Stop it, or we will". He ended up at a place where he witnessed Sam exorcising a demon... with his mind. He wasn't alone – the girl from the hotel room was there, and she turned out to be Ruby. She'd been "helping him" all this time with his psychic crap, which Sam had lied about. Dean was so disgusted and ashamed and _afraid_ – not of Sam, but what could happen to him – that he left, went out for the rest of the night, refusing to return to their hotel room. When he did, he was forced to confront Sam, and he felt infuriated, taking it out by taking a swing. And then another.

"Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone?" Dean asked, quiet but venom dripping from every word. "How far from normal, from _human_?"

"I'm just exorcising demons-"

"With your_ mind!_" How could Sam possibly see that as "just" anything? Couldn't he tell that this was _wrong?!_ And what was the price on it? Was it just Azazel's blood, or was there something more? How did Ruby play a part in this?

"Look, I shoulda said something, I'm sorry Dean," Sam pleaded as Dean turned his back. "I _am_, but try to see the other side of things."

"The _other side_?" Dean asked incredulously. What _other side_? This was demon mojo and it was _bad_, end of story!

"I'm pulling demons out of innocent people-"

"Use the knife!" The knife that was made for killing demons, what was so complicated?

"The knife kills the victim! What I do, most of them survive!" So that was it. Sam was the only person who could take such a terrible thing and twist something good out of it. That's what he truly believed, that he was saving people. And he was, but what did it mean for him? "I'm not gonna let it go too far," Sam promised.

"It's already gone too far Sam!" Dean yelled. They were getting visits from Heaven telling him to stop. And Dean couldn't stand looking at Sam's innocent face, seeing the child still there in him, not being able to see the wrong from right, tricked by demons to follow them to Hell. He hated having to tell him he was a monster, but he was going down that road, and Dean would do whatever it took to stop him.

"You were gone," Sam reminded him sadly. "I was here, I had to keep fighting without you." Dean's mind flashed to his time away. He knew now. How he had done things he seriously regretted. There was nothing worse than what he'd done. And Sam, he was doing the opposite, saving souls rather than tearing them apart. But it was wrong. And it was dangerous. "What I'm doing – it works."

"If what you're doing is so terrific," Dean asked coolly. "Why'd you lie about it to me? Why did an _angel_ tell me to stop you?" Sam raised his eyebrows, alarmed and confused. "Cas said that if I don't stop you, he will. Do you know what that means, Sam? That means that _God_ doesn't want you doing this. So are you just gonna stand there and tell me everything is _all good_?" Dean may still have been questioning God and Cas, but he knew Sam would take it more strongly. Sam seemed to be falling apart, and Dean just watched as the damage took it's toll. _You're one hell of a big brother,_ Dean told himself, wishing he didn't have to do this. But he wanted to save Sam, that was what was most important in the world – family. And all he had now was Sam and Bobby.

A few nights after that, Sam told him he wasn't going to use his powers anymore, and Dean was relieved. _Happy now Cas?_ Dean thought as he fell asleep.

"Yes, thank you." Dean started as Cas appeared at the end of his bed. "And yes, you are dreaming. I just thought I would answer your prayer."

"That was _not_ a prayer," Dean remarked. "It was a sarcastic comment, I didn't even think you'd hear it." _Can he read my mind?_ Dean hoped not, because he didn't need Cas knowing how weirded out he was by him.

"If you talk to me, I can hear it," Cas said simply. "And you seem to have given me the name 'Cas', so I respond to that too."

"It's just a nickname," Dean muttered.

"It's fine. Take care of your brother, Dean, and take care of yourself."

"You say that like you're leaving forever." Dean felt a nervous pit in his stomach. Cas wasn't going to just leave him now, was he? _Why do you even care? You barely know the guy, let alone like him._

"I assure you I will be in touch soon enough," Cas said. "Although when and why I am not entirely certain. We'll meet again."

Dean wasn't sure why, but he was comforted by that.


	3. Weakness

_**04x07, x09, x10 ("Its the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester", "I Know What You Did Last Summer", "Heaven and Hell")**_

Over the next few weeks, Castiel didn't come back to see Dean, and Dean began to wonder if he had lied. _Can angels lie?_ Maybe they could, but he doubted they were supposed to. And Cas seemed like a pretty dedicated angel, he wouldn't give up any perfection for one simple human. Dean had dreams about the angel – not like the ones Cas visited him in, just vague glimpses of him, with his ruffled hair and loose-fitting trench coat, and those magnificent sapphire eyes. He worried he may not see the angel again. But when a case called them to a small town with a witch planning to raise a powerful demon on Halloween, they were reunited.

Dean didn't know how he knew, but when Sam walked into the hotel room, and pulled out a gun, suggesting a stranger dwelled inside, he knew who it was. Before he even saw the trench coat or any other part of the man, he was yelling at Sam, pushing his gun aside.

"It's Castiel," he said quickly. "The angel." Then he noticed a tall, bald man in a suit standing with his back to them at the window. Was he another angel? Or a demon who had planned on attacking when they'd come inside? Had Cas saved them, or was it something else? "Him I don't know."

Cas stood and took a step towards them, looking sombre as always. However, when he cast his eyes on Dean, they brightened very subtly for a moment, before he turned to Sam. "Hello, Sam."

Sam was in awe, smiling and sputtering like a fool. "Oh my God! – Er, uh – I didn't mean to – sorry." Dean shot him an annoyed glance, rolling his eyes. _Real smooth._ "It's an honour," Sam tried again, stepping forward and holding out his hand. "Really, I've heard a lot about you."

Cas just stared at Sam blankly for a moment, glancing down at Sam's hand. Finally, he took his hand firmly, and returned his eyes to Sam's. He was far shorter than Sam, which was amusing to Dean.

"And I you," Cas returned casually, taking Sam's hand in both of his own. Dean was bothered by this for some reason, watching the exchange between the two and feeling very excluded. _Why does he treat Sam like this? He's not touchy-feely with me._ Although Dean couldn't complain; that would be awkward and not manly. _Still_...

"Sam Winchester," Cas said slowly. "The boy with the demon blood. Glad to hear you've... ceased your extra-curricular activities." Sam grew uncomfortable as Cas stared unfeelingly into his soul, _or something along those lines._

From the window, the other man finally spoke. "Let's keep it that way."

Dean already didn't like this man, who was apparently on Cas's side. He seemed worse than Cas. _He won't even face us._ "Yeah, okay Chuckles." Dean turned to Cas. "Who's your friend?"

He felt better when Cas acknowledged him again. But his question was ignored. "This raising of Sam Hain, have you stopped it?"

"Why?" Dean shot back, trying to keep control of his mind as those eyes bored into his.

"Have you located the witch?" Cas's authority rung out, shaking Dean off his thought path. Dean was forced to look away to keep on track. _Damn his angel mojo._ Dean answered more roughly than he wanted, determined not to crumble or even change expression, but over-shooting.

"Yes, we've located the witch."

"And? Is the witch dead?"

"No," Sam put in defensively, noticing the abrupt change in his brother.

"But we know who it is," Dean said more cautiously, not wanting to piss Cas off, since now he had a back-up friend. _He can already take us both without the extra help._

"Apparently, the witch knows who you are too," Cas told them, walking over to the nightstand, where a hex bag was sitting. According to Cas, it had been hidden in the wall, meaning the witch was on to them. _And Cas just saved us._ "Do you know where the witch is now?"

Dean turned to Sam, who shrugged. Dean had barely gotten out the words"We're working on it" when Cas returned, "That's unfortunate." _Unfortunate? What does that mean?_ "The raising of Sam Hain is one of the 66 seals."

_Of course._ Dean should've seen that one coming. When else did Cas get involved? But then, why was the other guy here? He was very solemn, and aggravating, still just staring at the curtains of the window. And Dean couldn't understand why Cas had brought him, but Cas seemed not to care about that topic at the moment.

"Lucifer cannot rise," Cas said sternly, moving into Dean's too-close range. "It must be prevented at all costs." Yes, Lucifer was bad... right? _Yes, he is. Don't be stupid, keep your damn head on._ Maybe if Cas wasn't so close...

"Okay, great," Dean said, shaking his head, focusing. "Now that you're here, why don't you tell us where the witch is? We'll gank her and everybody goes home." Even though Cas had just finally come back. His angel friend was free to go any time.

"We are not omniscient," Cas admitted. Dean could see worry cracking through, and felt sorry for the guy. This was all new for him too; it wasn't like the world had ever ended before. "This witch is powerful. She's cloaked even our methods." This made Dean wonder just what they were up against, if even angels couldn't find the bitch. But surely God could, didn't he see all, hear all, know all? Would it really be so hard for him to just give them an address? Or better, smite the witch himself? _He could probably stop the whole apocalypse..._ Yet here they were, having to fight on their own.

"Okay, we already know who she is," Sam reminded Cas. "So if we work together-"

"Enough of this," the mystery man cut in.

Dean snapped. "Who are you and why should I care?" The man turned around at last and Dean got his first look at the man. He wore simple dresswear, and had all dark features. He did not look exactly friendly. But Dean had misjudged Cas, so hopefully he was reading this guy wrong too. Dean just wasn't good with angels.

"This is Uriel," Cas introduced. "He's what you might call a specialist." Uriel neared, and Dean felt nervous. Cas was already only two feet away from him, and his mind was off the hook. He didn't need a second angel coming in and making things worse. But what did Cas mean by _specialist?_

"What kind of a specialist?" Dean asked. Uriel gave Cas an uncompromising stare, and Cas almost looked uncomfortable. They seemed to be speaking with their eyes, unless they were telepathic. Dean's eyes flickered between the two of them, trying to figure out what was being said. His question hung in the air, and Dean suddenly felt dreadful. "What are you gonna do?"

Cas returned his eyes to Dean. "You – both of you need to leave this town immediately." Vague as always. It seemed everytime Cas spoke, he raised more questions than he answered.

"Why?"

"Because we're about to destroy it." His voice was unwavering, unquestioning, undoubtful. There was no fear or worry in his eyes. He was prepared to smite this town and not look back.

_You've got to be kidding me._ Dean thought maybe Cas would at least consider the lives he would be taking to kill one witch. _It must be prevented at all costs._ But killing that many people wasn't necessary. They knew the witch. They could off her, and that would be the end of it.

Dean objected to the idea, but Cas just went on. "We're out of time. This witch has to die, the seal must be saved." _Why are you so heartless?_ It was a thousand people versus the entire population though. _No, we don't have to sacrifice anyone. We can do this._

"You're willing to kill them all?" Sam asked Uriel in disbelief.

"This isn't the first time I've... _purified_ a city."

Dean was disgusted, still unable to believe that an angel could be so horrible.

"Look," Cas said before Dean could snap at Uriel again. "I understand this is regrettable-"

"Regrettable?" Dean repeated. You and your damn understatements. Who cares about a few innocent humans? Not angels, apparently.

"We have to hold the line," Cas went on. "Too many seals have been broken already. It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of _six billion_. There's a bigger picture here."

"Right," Dean said. "Because you're _bigger picture _kinda guys."

Cas stepped forward, and Dean's antagonism faltered. "Lucifer _cannot rise._ He does, and Hell rises with him. Is that something you're willing to risk?" Dean struggled to find words, but he was too disoriented by the severity rolling off Cas. He was spared by Sam, who told Cas they would stop the witch before she summoned anyone. Cas didn't take his eyes off Dean. Was he trying to break him down? Because it was working.

"We're wasting our time with these mud monkeys," Uriel hissed, and Cas finally dropped his gaze. Dean didn't even stir at the insult Uriel had thrown.

"I'm sorry," Cas muttered. "But we have our orders."

"You can't do this!" Sam cried. Dean would have been jealous of how Sam was still all together if he wasn't _not_ all together himself.

"We have no choice," Cas said slowly, not looking at Sam, or anyone else.

"Of course you have a choice," Dean finally said. _That's what free will is. You can't me that angels don't have any freedom._ "What, you've never questioned a crap order? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?"

"Even if you can't understand it," Cas injected coolly. "_Have faith_. The plan is just."

Dean couldn't agree with him. It wasn't enough. Just because it was God's will or whatever, did not mean he was going to let a thousand people die for one damn witch. "If you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it because we're not leaving." Uriel threatened to drag him out of the town himself, but Dean wasn't worried. He turned his attention to Cas, who he thought would at least consider what he had to say, more than Uriel would. "We can do this," he said quietly, pleading with his eyes. Cas stared, but Dean couldn't get a reading on him, his face blank. But he was listening. "We will find the witch, and we _will_ stop the summoning."

"Castiel," Uriel barked. "We will not let these two-"

"Enough," Cas ordered, without looking away from Dean. "I suggest you move quickly."

Dean was starting to like Cas, trust him. He was easier to break than Uriel. He had a heart somewhere deep down. And he was at least giving them a chance, wasn't threatening their lives. _Thanks Cas_. Dean almost thought he saw Cas nod, and then the angels vanished.

"Dean," Sam said finally. "They were... angels."

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "They mess with your head."

"Huh?"

"You didn't feel it? I can hardly think for myself when one of them is near me. And Cas..." Dean paused. _He does weird shit in my head. _"I dunno, he just gets so close and it makes it worse."

"I didn't notice anything," Sam said. "Nothing. Although, they barely looked my way. Cas hardly took his eyes off you, and Uriel didn't seem to care for either of us, me less than you. You would think, if their power has affect on you, it would be worse on me, because, well..." _Because you have demon blood in you?_ That did make sense though – a demon would have it worse than a human when it came to an angel. So why hadn't Sam felt it? Was it just Dean? If that was true, what did that mean? _Am I weak, is there something wrong with me?_

"

They stopped Sam Hain, but not before the seal was broken. Dean realized, sitting on a bench in a park watching as people went on with their lives that at the rate they were going, the thousand people they saved would just be dead soon because they weren't going to be able to stop the apocalypse. Then he felt it. Somehow, there was a connection between Dean and Cas because he just knew when he was near.

Without looking up, Dean muttered, "Let me guess, you're here for the I-told-you-so."

"No," Cas answered.

"Good, because I'm really not that interested," Dean said. _You don't even have to say it. I failed, I know. It was all just a waste. I should've listened to you guys. But I've just extended their lives a little longer._

"I am not here to judge you, Dean."

"Then why are you here?"

"Our orders-"

"Yeah, you know, I've had about enough of these orders of yours," Dean cut in.

"Our orders," Cas repeated. "Were not to stop the summoning of Sam Hain. They were to do whatever you told us to do." Dean stared at Cas, surprised. Questions popped into his mind, mostly _what?_ and _why?_ Why would an angel follow his orders?

"Your orders were to follow my orders?"

Cas nodded. "It was a test, to see how you would perform under... battlefield conditions, you might say." _Battlefield conditions? Whose test was it? _It didn't matter, he'd undoubtedly failed. The seal was broken, because of him. Still, how weak did they think he was that he couldn't take on a witch?

"It was a witch," Dean said. "Not the Tet Offensive."

Cas gave a small laugh. _He_ _should do that more often. Laughing looks good on him. ... Wait, what?_ Dean had not seriously just thought that, had he? _Why?! Why am I so messed up around him?!_

"So I failed your test, huh?" Dean asked, trying to stay on the subject. _Maybe I failed, but it was worth it._ "I get it. But you know what? If you would have waved that magic time travelling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I'd make the same call." Cas watched, waiting patiently for the end of his rant, and Dean admired that about him. If it had been Uriel, or even Sam or Bobby, they would have given their input. Cas just listened, even though it was clear Dean thought Cas was disappointed in him.

"You misunderstand me, Dean," Cas told him quietly. "I'm not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save the town."

_Really? _He had seemed so against it. Cas explained how he appreciated humanity, and how with each breaking seal, they were dooming the humans to Hell on Earth – literally. Dean knew what Hell had been like, and he didn't want to believe that it would ever be here, reigning over innocent people.

"Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?" Cas asked cautiously. An angel wanted to confide in him? What sort of secrets did an angel even keep? Curious, Dean agreed. "I'm not a... hammer, as you say. I..." Cas hesitated. _Angels, they're so self-assured, what is he holding back?_ "I have questions, I have doubts. I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here." Was he saying he was questioning... God? Cas had seemed so loyal since the first times they'd spoken. What had changed? _Did I do this? Have I made an angel have doubt? _It served him right, payback for all the screwing around Cas was doing in his head. "But in the coming months, you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders Dean." Cas met his eyes, sadness filling his own. _Why, why me? Why do I have to do all this?_ "I truly don't." Worry etched into his face, and Dean could feel all the pressure on him. _I have to save the world. How can they expect me to do that?_ Cas's hand twitched, and for a second Dean thought he might reach out to comfort him somehow. He glanced out at the park, and when he looked back to Cas, he was gone.

_Cas?_ Did Dean really expect him to sit around and pity a pathetic human? He surely had better things to do. _Are you gonna come back?_ Of course, he had to come back. He was on a mission to save the world and all that jazz, he would come back to prevent seals from being broken...

Dean stood hurriedly, speeding back to his car and then returning to the hotel. When he saw Sam, he noticed he looked almost scared, but Dean was beyond caring at that second. He was okay, so whatever it was could wait.

"We have to save more seals," Dean told him quickly.

"We – what?" Sam stared at him blankly, confused. "I mean, I know, but... what? Where's this coming from?"

Dean froze. He hadn't really thought of anything past the urgency of finding more seals. He'd forgotten that Sam would ask questions. "I dunno. The world's ending, I guess I wanna stop that." _And it'll bring Cas back._ Dean couldn't understand his own mind. He hated Cas, he didn't hate Cas, what? Well, he hadn't liked him at first, but he was starting to see things about Cas, things that were not so bad, like he was almost... human. Or at least, he did feel some things. He was a lot better than Uriel.

"Right," Sam muttered. Dean nodded, and began packing. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean asked mindlessly, throwing clothes and books in bags.

"Uriel was just here," Sam said quietly.

Dean stopped dead. "What?" Dean remembered Sam's fearful face when he'd walked into the room. "Are you okay? What did he want?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Sam assured him. "He just... he said some things. About you."

"Well, I don't really care what he thinks about me-"

"He asked me to ask you something," Sam continued, giving Dean a hard look. Dean waited. "About Hell." Dean's heart jumped tensely. _Uriel wants to know something about Hell? What, he can't go there himself? _"Dean, do you remember Hell?"

"What? No," Dean lied. "Did Uriel tell you that? He's a liar."

"Is he, Dean? Please, tell me the truth."

Dean hesitated. "I... I'm not lying Sam. I don't remember Hell."

Sam heaved a sigh. "I don't believe you. Maybe you don't wanna talk about it, but I think Uriel was right, and you don't have to-"

"I don't remember, Sam, okay? Drop it." _It doesn't matter. It won't change anything._

"

"Cas!"

Dean had spotted the trench coat as soon as he opened the hotel room door, and was relieved. It had been a week since Cas had last disappeared.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said vacantly.

"What are you doing here? Where's Uriel?" There hadn't really been much going on, the past week fairly void of demons. He wondered if this had to do with a nearby seal.

"You are dreaming, Dean. I came to talk."

This disappointed Dean. "Is it so hard to talk to me when I'm awake?" Cas didn't answer. "Alright, what's up?"

Cas directed his eyes to the ceiling as if he was taking the expression literally. Dean shook his head, almost smiling. "You have been praying to me a lot-"

"I have _not_ been praying."

"You have been thinking about me a lot, then."

Dean cringed slightly. "I think I liked 'praying' better."

Cas pressed on. "I cannot be around all the time just because you want me here. I have more important things to do than just spend time with a human. It is not that I don't like you, I just have other occupations."

"I don't care if you don't like me," Dean said quickly. "You don't really seem to like anything."

"I have nothing against you."

_That's what people say when they're breaking up with someone. It's not you, it's me. _"That's nice, Cas. Like I said, I don't care. Go and do your angel crap, and I'll do what I do."

"I was under the impression that you were looking for me," Cas noted. "Or, looking for things that would bring me to you. Is that not a sign of caring?"

Dean felt his cheeks grow warm. "No. I'm looking for seals. I mean, yeah, we could use your help, being an almighty angel or whatever, but..."

"I am sorry," Cas stated. "Humans are complicated, and easy to misread."

"It's okay Cas, don't worry about it. But you could help me, you know. Point us in the direction of a seal," Dean suggested.

"We do not know which seals Lilith wants to break," Cas told him. "There are hundreds, and she only has to break sixty-six to raise Lucifer. We have won some, but we still have many more to defend."

"Right. It doesn't matter." Dean didn't understand his new attachment to this angel, but he didn't like it. It made him feel weak and needy. He wanted to know if other people felt drawn to angels like this, or if it was just him. "Cas..?"

"Yes Dean?" Cas looked at him curiously. But staring into those mesmeric eyes, he couldn't get the words out. Something held him back – fear. What if Cas cut him off, because he couldn't have humans hanging off him, or he just didn't want Dean around after they saved the world? _If we save the world. If not, I'll just go back to Hell and he'll go to Heaven, so it won't matter anyway._

"Nothing."

"

A week later, Dean confessed to Sam that he remembered Hell, but he still refused to talk about it. He felt slightly better that at least he wasn't lying to him anymore. There was no point – he would just keep nagging at him until he 'fessed up, so it was easier to just get it out of the way.

Other than that, Dean kept them on the search for seals, but things were pretty dead. One night, when they had decided to take a day off, Sam found Ruby – or rather, she'd sought them out, wishing to give them information about a girl named Anna Milton. Dean didn't trust Ruby's lead, and didn't want to follow up on it when he could be finding a seal. He didn't care about some chick the demons wanted. But Sam insisted on it, which annoyed Dean all the more. What, they were just taking the word of a demon now? Dean already couldn't stand her, and he didn't know why she and Sam were so buddy-buddy.

They found the girl, Anna, after meeting with her psychologist, and learning that whoever Anna was, she knew about the apocalypse. She was hiding in a church, her parents dead at their home. And she could hear angels talking – which was why she was wanted by demons. Then Ruby found them and took Anna while they fought off a demon Dean had known well in Hell – Alastair. When they escaped, Dean asked Sam about why he trusted Ruby so much, seeing as she now had Anna and Sam wasn't worried she would do anything to her. Sam explained how she saved his life, and taught him how to use his powers. Sam had just finished telling him this when Ruby came in again, possessing a maid, and telling them to meet her at an address.

They went, found themselves at a cabin, and saw that Anna was still okay. It was only a few short minutes when the door burst open violently, and there was Uriel and Cas.

_Cas! What are you doing here?_ Dean ignored Uriel, and Cas ignored everyone but Dean, which was fine with him.

"Please tell me you're here to help," Dean said. They had to be here on orders. And it likely had something to do with...

"We're here for Anna," Castiel confirmed. So the angels were after this girl too. Ruby had said major players were after Anna, but had she known the angels were involved? She looked extremely uncomfortable, so maybe not. _Maybe they'll smite her before they go._

"Here for her like... here for her?" What were their plans for her? Were they going to kill her? Because what, she could hear them?

"Stop talking," Uriel snapped. Cas just stood back, not speaking, seeming inferior to Uriel suddenly. _Isn't he his boss? What happened there?_ "Give her to us."

"Are you gonna help her?" Sam asked.

"No. She has to die," Cas answered monotonously. Something about him was different. He was acting like a soldier, back to his unfeeling self, saying as little as he had to.

"Why?" Sam was asking as Dean pondered over the change in Cas. He brought himself back as Uriel told them to get out of the way.

"Woah, woah, woah," he said. "I know she's wiretapping your angel chats or whatever, but that's no reason to gank her."

Uriel smirked. "Don't worry, I'll kill her gentle."

_You freaking dick!_ "You're some heartless sons-of-bitches, you know that?"

His comment was directed at Uriel, but Cas answered. "As a matter of fact, we are. And?" His voice was not angry or even sad, totally vacant of emotion. This scared Dean more than if he'd have yelled. He couldn't speak, too afraid of Cas's altercation that had so quickly transpired.

"_And?_" Sam asked incredibly. "Anna's an innocent girl."

"She is far from innocent."

Uriel was getting impatient, and attacked Ruby. Dean went after him, and saw Cas advance on Sam. He didn't know what Cas was going to do, but then Uriel punched him and he lost focus for a moment. When he glanced back their way, Sam was unconscious, and Cas was at the door which Anna hid behind. Then there was a bright light around the two angels and they vanished.

"What the...?"

Dean went to check on Anna, wondering if somehow they had taken her and then gone, but instead he found her, arms covered in blood, sigils on the mirror drawn in her blood.

"Are they – are they gone?" she asked, hectic and disoriented. _You did this?_

"Did you kill them?" _Please tell me you didn't... You can't have actually killed them. _He wouldn't have cared if she'd offed Uriel, but Cas...

"No," Anna said distantly. Dean breathed an internal sigh of relief. "I sent them away." _Back to Heaven?_ "I don't know how I did it. I just did."

Anna was suddenly a lot more interesting. They took her to Bobby's and kept her in the panic room, where she would be safe from demons at least. Ruby gave them hex bags to protect them from the angels too. Then they called their psychic friend Pamela, who worked Anna over, and found out she was a fallen angel. She'd once been higher up than Cas in her garrison, until she disobeyed, ripped out her grace, and fell to Earth. She figured she could save herself if she got her grace back, they just had to find it.

Later, Dean talked to her alone, asking why she would fall. She said she longed for emotions. Dean wished he wouldn't have to feel, wouldn't be tortured by the memories of Hell, and everything he did there. It would be easier to just follow orders and have faith in himself and not worry about anything. Just do what he was told. But he would never have that luxury.

After they located where Anna's grace had fallen, and found it was gone, she started hearing the angels. They left a message, that if they didn't give up Anna by midnight, Dean would go back to Hell.

_Why am I the only one who's being punished for this?! _Dean couldn't bear the thought of going back to Hell. They had to find a way to stop the angels – kill them even. He figured if they took Uriel out of the equation, they could possibly talk Cas out of it. _I dunno, he was acting so strange before._ But he had to try. But they weren't coming up with anything.

Dean was studying a book, out by the Impala when Anna approached him. She wanted to thank him... and sleep with him. It might be her last night on Earth, and Dean hadn't been with a girl in a while, so he didn't object. After he passed out and woke up again, he returned to the barn, where he met Uriel, realizing he was actually dreaming.

"It's the only way we could chat," Uriel explained briefly. Dean noted that 'we' usually consisted of Cas, who was absent. Dean wondered aloud where he was, and Uriel answered, "Castiel? He, uh... he's not here." _Yeah, I got that. _But Uriel glanced upwards, and Dean assumed he was in Heaven. _How come he couldn't come down here? It's not like he'd really have to make the trip. It's just a dream!_ "You see, he has this weakness. He likes you."

Dean's heartrate picked up. _What does that mean? He likes me? Anna said angels don't have emotions..._ But maybe Cas was starting to break. _Because of me? _But what did Uriel mean, Cas liked him? _I guess him having any feelings whatsoever towards me isn't good. _Dean had a bad feeling though, that if he wasn't here, wherever he was, he was in trouble. Because having emotions was some sort of disobedience, breaking the angel rules, and Anna had told him that disobeying was one of the worst things angels could do.

Dean wasn't fully attentive to the conversation he was having with Uriel, until he threatened Sam.

"Here's the deal," Uriel told him coldly. "If you don't want to die, you give up Anna. Or you give up Sam."

"You wouldn't."

"I would." And Dean believed him. "Come out of hiding, and give us one of them. But the thing is, you give us Anna, and she comes to Heaven with us. Sam? He goes to Hell. Your choice."

Dean may have liked Anna – she was pretty and nice and the circumstances were horrible for her – but Sam was more important to him than anyone. So when Dean woke up, he went in the barn and explained to Sam and Anna the choice he was given. He apologized to Anna, saying he chose Sam, and she understood. Sam had the brilliant idea of sending Ruby to bring Alastair to them, so when the angels came, the demons could distract them and Anna could get her grace back from Uriel, the one who had stolen it.

When the angels showed up, they stalled to buy time. Anna kissed Dean, and he could feel the angels' eyes burning on them. Particularly Cas's. _He likes you. _Dean batted the thought away. _That's not how he meant it._ Anna was about to give herself up when Ruby finally appeared with Alastair. Cas told him to leave, but Alastair of course wanted Anna.

"You know who we are and what we will do. I won't say it again," Cas warned dangerously. "Leave now... or we lay you to waste."

This only provoked Alastair, who attacked Cas. Uriel took on Alastair's henchmen, exorcising one, but Cas couldn't exorcise Alastair fast enough. He was grabbed by the throat and Alastair began to chant a ritual that would send Cas back to Heaven. The fierce facade broke, and Cas looked truly afraid, like an innocent child. Dean wondered if he'd been upstairs earlier, being punished in some way for having emotions, and if he was sent back now without getting Anna, he would only be in worse trouble. _And it'll be my fault._ Dean grabbed a crowbar a few feet away from him and swung it at Alastair, knocking him away from Cas. At the same time, Anna managed to grab her grace from Uriel, and when it returned to her, it sent Alastair away. Then she was gone.

Cas rose, and gave Dean a half-grateful, half-anxious look. Dean knew that, although he'd just saved his life, he'd probably only extended it for Cas to get in more trouble, so he didn't say anything to him. And then, they were gone.


	4. Fate

_**04x16 ("On the Head of a Pin")**_

Dean became afraid of falling asleep. Because in his unconscious, he would either dream of Hell, or dream of angels. Anna, who might be dead because of him; Uriel, who really hated him and might try to kill him or Sam; and mostly, Cas. Cas, who had pulled him out of Hell, who had helped him, listened to him, who had maybe even gotten in trouble from Heaven because of him... Cas was slowly starting to mean something to him, and apparently, he meant something to Cas, even if he didn't know exactly what. What was worse, Cas disappeared for a while – a long while. He didn't visit – while Dean was awake or otherwise – for months. And it scared Dean.

Cas finally made his reappearance, saving Dean from Alastair after they had saved a seal (and two Reapers). He didn't stay for long though, but returned a week later. Unfortunately, Sam and Dean had just gotten back from Pamela's funeral, so the appearance of the angels – yes, plural; Uriel was there too – was less than welcome. Pamela had died protecting one of the seals that the angels loved so much.

Dean turned on the light in the hotel room, and there stood Uriel, in the middle of the room, and Cas, about as far from them as he could get. At least he wasn't in Dean's personal space; maybe Dean would be able to think. But just seeing the man in the trench coat made him a bit light-headed. _I'm just tired. It's been a wearing day._ But when Uriel told him he was needed, Dean was enraged.

"Needed? We just got _back_ from needed!" Sam explained how they had just gotten back from Pamela's funeral, but Dean wasn't finished. "Pamela, you know, psychic Pamela? You remember her. Cas, you remember her, you burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times!" Cas stared, and Dean knew he _did_ remember, and by the look on his face, he was sorry. _It was your damn fault she died!_ Dean hoped Cas heard that, could feel Dean blaming him, judging him. "Yeah, then she died, saving one of your precious seals. So maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for _five freaking minutes!_"

"We dragged you out of Hell for our purposes," Uriel sneered.

"Yeah, what were those again? What exactly do you want from me?" _Because you're already asking me for everything – the lives of my friends, everything I care about, you're just asking me to lay down my life to you guys. You want me to save the damn world as if one man can do it._

"Dean, we know this is difficult to understand," Cas spoke finally. Dean could feel his sympathy, and he felt less angry. But Uriel cut him off.

"And _we_ _don't care_," Uriel weighed each word carefully, shooting a glare at Cas, who immediately backed down. He looked away from Dean, staring straight ahead, a toy soldier. _What? What just happened?_ Uriel continued on, explaining that seven angels from their garrison had been murdered. They thought it was demons. Sam asked what they wanted them to do about it – if these demons could kill angels, what humans stood a chance? Dean kept his eyes on Cas.

"We can handle the demons," Uriel told Sam.

"Once we find whoever it is," Cas added, glancing towards Uriel cautiously, as if afraid he had over-stepped. _Cas? What's going on?_ For whatever reason, Uriel had him on a tight leash, and it was as if Cas needed his permission to speak. This irritated Dean, so he started talking directly to Cas, wanting to see how Uriel would react.

"So you need _our _help, hunting a demon?" Dean asked him. Cas moved closer, but stopped beside Uriel. Uriel watched him assiduously, and Dean could tell Cas was aware he couldn't go beyond his boundaries.

"Not quite," Cas said carefully, his eyes beckoning Dean forward. He resisted. "We have Alastair. But he... won't talk. Alastair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an... impasse."

"Well, he's like a black belt in torture, you guys are out of your league," Dean told them. _But what does this have to do with me?_

"That's why we've come to his student," Uriel said. Dean's stomach dropped. "You happen to be the most qualified interrogator." _No. No, you can't seriously think I would..._

"You're our best hope," Cas said gently, seeing Dean breaking.

"No," Dean told him firmly. "No way. You can't ask me to do this, Cas. Not this."

Cas didn't speak as Uriel stepped forward and hissed, "Who said anything about asking?"

Dean shot Sam a finally glance and then he wasn't in the hotel room anymore. He was looking into a room in which dwelled Alastair, in an Enochian Devil's Trap. But he wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to torture Alastair. Not because he cared about Alastair, no. Because he was terrified of torturing. He was terrified of the monster inside of him that longed to bear it's fangs again. He tried to leave, but Uriel stopped him.

"Angels are dying, boy."

"Everybody's dying these days," Dean retorted. Uriel looked like he was itching to slap him. "And hey, I get it – you're all powerful, you can make me do whatever you want-" Dean turned back to Cas. "But you can't make me do _this_."

"This is too much to ask," Cas told him, crossing the room. "_I _know. But we have to ask it." Dean wanted to plea to Cas, because he could see under the soldier-angel that Cas was on his side. But it didn't matter. _Orders are orders._ And Uriel, wouldn't let Cas do anything.

"I want to talk to Cas alone," Dean told Uriel, wondering if he would bite. Cas gave Uriel an innocent look, and Uriel vanished.

"You guys don't walk enough, you're gonna get flabby," Dean told Cas, looking at the spot where Uriel had just gone from. Cas didn't speak. "What's going on Cas? Since when does Uriel have a leash on you?" _Since when do you just stand in silence and let Uriel take the lead? What happened to you Cas?_

"My superiors have begun to question my sympathies," Cas explained, as if Dean knew what he meant.

"Your sympathies?"

Cas looked down. "I was getting too close to the humans in my charge." He met Dean's eyes. "You." _Too close? _What, a few visits in dreams and some nice words was _too close_ for an angel? "They feel I've begun to express emotions – doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgement." Cas turned away from Dean, staring forward again. Dean tried to read him, but he'd thrown up a wall between them.

"Well, tell Uriel or whoever," Dean returned to the subject of torturing Alastair. "You do not want me doing this, trust me."

"Want it, no," Cas agreed. "But I've been told we need it."

"You ask me to open that door and walk through it," Dean told him, watching Alastair strung up in his Trap. His eyes watered as he felt himself fighting – not against what Cas was telling him, but against the instinct to go in there and tear the demon up. "You will not like what walks back out."

"For what it's worth," Cas mumbled. _Which is nothing, because I don't have a choice._ "I would give _anything_ not to have you do this."

Dean closed his eyes, holding back tears. "Don't bother, Cas. You'll just get yourself in trouble." He walked slowly over to a cart loaded with weapons, feeling Cas's eyes on him, and rolled it into the room. When the door slammed shut, it rung out with finality.

He couldn't look at Alastair, couldn't accept what he was about to do, about to become. But Alastair started singing, and then laughing tauntingly. The monster growled hungrily, but Dean couldn't show any emotion. Alastair couldn't think he was winning anything.

"I'm sorry," Alastair chuckled. "This is a very serious, very emotional situation, _for you._" Dean glared. "I shouldn't laugh, but I mean... Are they _serious?_ They sent _you_ to torture me?"

"You've got one chance," Dean said quietly. "_One_. Tell me who's killing the angels. I want a name."

"You think I'll see all your _scary toys_ and spill my guts?" Alastair asked sarcastically.

"You'll spill your guts, one way or another," Dean promised, trying to sound much stronger than he felt, because Alastair already knew he was afraid. No, not afraid – just unwilling. He couldn't do this, couldn't give in. _Who's gonna stop you?_ "I just didn't want to ruin my shoes. Now, answer the question."

"Or what, you'll work me over?" Alastair smirked. "Or maybe, you don't want to. Maybe, you're _all scared to_." He sang the last words snidely, knowing he was right.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Dean returned.

"Not entirely," Alastair shot. "You left part of yourself back in the pit." _Everything that was good about me, my innocence. It's all gone now._ Alastair kept tempting him, until finally Dean cracked. The monster took over, and he felt himself go numb. He was being possessed by the evil version of himself. And it felt good to be back.

Alastair still had the nerve to try and taunt him even as he was tormented. "I carved you into a new animal, Dean. There's no turning back."

Dean grinned icily. "Maybe you're right. But now it's my turn to carve."

He wasn't Dean anymore. He was worse than a demon, and he wanted it, he let himself go. He was going to destroy Alastair. But the more he cut into Alastair, the more Alastair cut into him. And then, Alastair struck a winning blow.

"You know, it was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on. But in the end, it was you," Alastair told him. "The first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch – that was the first seal."

...

_What?_

_Liar._

_I did this?_

_He can't be telling the truth._

Fear. Anger. Anxiety. Hatred. He hadn't done this. He hadn't brought on the apocalypse. Had he? "You're lying."

"'_And it is written, that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.'_" It was a quote from Revelations.

_I broke the first seal._

_I caused the apocalypse._

_I am the reason the world will end._

"When we win, when we bring on the apocalypse and burn this earth down," Alastair leered as Dean turned his back on him. "We'll owe it all to you, Dean Winchester."

Dean felt fury boiling inside him, and he couldn't contain it for long. "Even if the demons do win, you won't be around to see it." He spun around, and was shocked to see Alastair standing right behind him. He didn't have time to wonder how he'd gotten out.

"You should talk to your plumber about the pipes," Alastair said, throwing a hard-hitting punch. But he wasn't done there. He beat Dean until he was almost unconscious, then lifted him in the air, suffocating him.

"I'll see you back in class, bright and early Monday morning," Alastair hissed. Everything was fading out when he was suddenly dropped, collapsing on the ground. He held on just long enough to see the bottom of the tan trench coat, and then passed out. _Thanks Cas._

"

Cas waited and listened to Alastair's cries as Dean tortured him. _Dean... Hold on to yourself. Don't lose who you are._ Then the lights flickered, and Anna was there. She told him to stop Dean, asking how he could honestly believe this was an order from God. He was making Dean _torture_ someone, losing his own soul in the process. _Is this right?_

"What you're feeling," Anna told him. "It's called doubt."

_Am I doubting God?_ Cas couldn't do that... It was forbidden. Anna proposed that they work together, but he refused. She was a fallen angel, he wasn't like her. She left, and he could still hear Alastair's screams.

_Is this what God would want? _Cas didn't know anymore. He was so confused as of late. Everything about Dean confused him. But he had already been punished for it... He cringed at the memory. _I cannot disobey._ But Dean was in there, falling apart... He couldn't lose Dean...

He glanced in the window, and saw Alastair standing right in front of Dean, his fist swinging forward and knocking him to the ground. He picked Dean up and hit him repeatedly. Cas flew into the room and attacked Alastair as he began choking Dean. Dean fell to the ground, unconscious. Cas tried to fight Alastair, but he was overpowered, and Alastair was just sending him back to Heaven when his words caught, and they both saw Sam Winchester.

He was using his powers. Now was not the time to think about how that was a bad thing. He got Alastair to tell them that the demons weren't killing the angels – he didn't know who was.

"Go ahead, send me back," Alastair taunted.

"I'm stronger than that now," Sam told him, and Cas raised his eyebrows. "Now I can kill." He proceeded to follow through with his words, Cas watching in amazement. Usually, this would have meant trouble for Sam, but at the moment, Cas couldn't bring himself to say anything. Sam had just saved his life, as well as Dean's. He owed him one.

Sam hurried over to Dean, and Cas disappeared.

Hours later, he found them in a hospital, Dean still out cold, wires all over him. _I am sorry, Dean. This was my fault. _He caught Sam's eye, and Sam followed him out of the room.

"Get in there and heal him," Sam demanded.

"I can't," Cas told him. _He will heal with time. I am not able to, as much as I would wish. _Because Cas had pleaded to be allowed to heal Dean too, and he'd been denied. It signified too much attachment to the human.

"You and Uriel _put him in there_ because you can't keep a simple Devil's Trap together!"

"I don't know what happened! That Trap-" Cas stopped. _I know I should've been watching, should have done something sooner. I shouldn't have let Alastair attack Dean. _"It shouldn't have broken, I am sorry."

"This whole thing was _pointless_," Sam hissed. "Do you understand that? The demons aren't doing the hits. Something else is killing your soldiers."

"Perhaps Alastair was lying," Cas suggested, although he didn't really believe it himself.

"No, he wasn't."

Sam turned his back and went back to Dean.

"

That night, Cas called out to Anna, who came to him.

"Decided to kill me after all?" she asked him. _No. I spoke to Uriel earlier, and it seems Heaven doesn't care that our soldiers are dying. I do not think the orders we are receiving are from God. And I am afraid._

"I am considering disobedience."

"Good."

"No, it isn't," Cas mumbled. "For the first time, I feel..." _Confused, terrified, alone. Without Heaven, what is there? What is there for me?_

"It gets worse," Anna told him. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he couldn't help feel slightly disgusted. She turned to go, but he couldn't let her leave yet.

"Anna, I don't know what to do," he said, scared. "Please tell me what to do."

She turned back. "Like the old days? No, I'm sorry. It's time to think for yourself." And she was gone.

_Think for myself?_ Cas didn't know how to. Never, in all of history, had he thought for himself. Not until... not until he'd met Dean. _Is that where I go now? To Dean?_ It was a shot in the dark, but it was his best hope. He was about to return to the hospital when he noticed a dripping tap... Which had been the fall of the Trap he'd made. He teleported to the Trap, and saw the dripping pipe.

_Uriel, come to me._ He turned the tap, which was just open enough to let the pipe drip. And then Uriel was there. He asked Cas if he would fight with him, against the corrupt Heaven.

"It's strange how a leaky pipe can undo the work of angels," Cas said. "When we ourselves are supposed to be agents of Fate." Uriel tried to say Alastair was powerful, but Cas knew he was being dishonest. "Tell me the truth."

Uriel pulled out a special blade. "The truth is, the only thing that can kill an angel is another angel."

"You," Cas said. He'd guessed, and now he knew. "You broke the Devil's Trap, set Alastair on Dean." _How could you? We need Dean, how could you try and kill him?_ But Uriel wanted to destroy the humans. He was jealous of them. He wanted to raise Lucifer.

"If you want to believe in something, believe in him."

"Lucifer is not God," Cas said slowly. He wasn't sure how he was staying so calm when he'd just found out the angels were rebelling against Heaven. But he managed to.

But Uriel wanted Cas to join him, as other angels had. "All you have to do is be unafraid."

_Unafraid?_ "For the first time in a long time, I am." He was fighting for God, fighting for the humans. Fighting for Dean. _He's already lost enough, I can't let him lose everything. I can't let things get any worse for him._ But all the same, on God's side or not, Uriel took him down. "You can't win, Uriel. I still serve God."

"You haven't even met the man!" Uriel cried, punching him. "There is no will, no wrath, no God!"

A blade went through his throat, and Anna was there. "Maybe not," she whispered. "But there's still me." She pulled out the blade, and Uriel fell. Dead. She turned to Cas.

"Thank you, Anna," Cas mumbled.

"Are you sure about this, Cas?" she asked carefully. "If you do this, it's not going to get easier. You have to have something to fight for."

Cas nodded. "I do."

"

Dean awoke in a hospital, unsure of how long he'd been out. He felt sore everywhere, but he'd been worse.

"Are you alright?"

He turned, and saw Cas sitting in a chair beside his bed. He wondered how long he'd been there. _I'm alright. I'm alive. You saved me from Alastair._ "Well, thanks to you..."

"You need to be more careful." _Really? I just woke up and you're already lecturing me? It's not my fault this happened!_

"You need to learn how to manage a damn Devil's Trap," he shot back.

"That's not what I mean," Cas rebuked. "Uriel is dead."

_Uriel?_ Well, Dean wasn't going to cry over it, but he was curious as to how. "Was it the demons?"

"Disobedience." _Uriel... disobeyed?_ He hadn't seemed the type. And now he was dead... what did that mean for Cas? It seemed like he was following orders less than Uriel was, so... was he next? "He was working against us." _How?_ Nothing was making sense. Maybe Dean was just too out of it still. He decided to switch to a more disturbing topic, that he at least had a grasp of.

"Is it true? Did I break the first seal?" He met Cas's eyes, which were full of misery. "Did I start all this?"

"Yes." He didn't even sugar-coat it, but Dean supposed he didn't deserve that anyway. "When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid seige to Hell. We fought our way to get to you before you-"

"Jump-started the apocalypse." _I am the reason Hell is coming to Earth. I am the reason innocent people will suffer and die. I've spent my whole life fighting against this, and now I have started the end._

"We were too late," Cas concluded sadly.

"Why didn't you just leave me there then?" _I deserve that. I deserve to suffer in Hell for this. I deserve to be tortured a million years over, for every soul I send into misery._

"It's not blame that falls on you Dean," Cas said. _Then what? What is it?_ "It's fate. The righteous man who begins it, is the only one who can finish it." _What?_ So, he started it, and now what? "You have to stop it." Either that, or everyone dies.

"Lucifer? The apocalypse?" Dean felt it again – the weight of the world on his shoulders. "What does that mean?" How could he stop the end of the world? They were already losing. Cas didn't answer, and Dean felt panic jolt through him. _Don't leave me here alone!_ "Don't you go disappearing on me! _What does that mean_?"

"

"I don't know," Cas told him. Dean didn't believe it. "I don't. Dean, they don't tell me much. I know our fate rests with you." _My fate, rests in you. _If Dean stopped the apocalypse, he could save Cas. Together, they could fight it, fight for their lives, and that was the best they could hope for. But Dean wasn't so optimistic.

"Then you guys are screwed," Dean choked. "I can't do it Cas, it's too big." Cas could hear the broken man Dean always tried to hide seeping into his voice, and he wished there was something he could do. _But I can't. The apocalypse will happen if Dean doesn't stop it._ "Alastair was right, I'm not all here. I'm not – I'm not strong enough." A tear rolled down his cheek. _Dean..._ Cas didn't know what to say. There was nothing he could say to make it right. He just wanted Dean to stop suffering, but he couldn't. "I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be.

"Find someone else. It's not me."

_It has to be you, Dean. You're the only hope I've got. I don't know what else to do, who else to put my faith in. God chose you, it has to be you._ "When you were in Hell, you changed. You lost parts of yourself. But you still have some of your innocence, your righteousness. You are still worthy, Dean. Please don't give up yet. This is the world we're talking about here. Your world."

"I know that! That's why I can't save it!" Dean cried. "I can't save billions of people! I'm nothing special, and I'm already losing, even with the angels on my side! Your people are dying, ours are dying, and how many demons are dying? Not many. How many seals are being broken? We can't win this, Cas! We're all going to die."

Dean was growing hysterical, and Cas reached out a hand, touching his forehead gently. He grew calm, a wave of lethargy washing over him. Cas stood, ready to leave.

"Cas, don't," Dean breathed. "Don't you just knock me out and leave me here."

Cas sat back down again. Where was he gonna go anyways? He had to stay with Dean, prove his new-found faith to him. So he stayed. He felt Dean watching him warily, fighting against the sleep, because he was afraid Cas would go as soon as his eyes closed. But soon the exhaustion overtook him. And still Cas remained.

An hour later, Cas got a call – of a sorts – from a superior angel, Zachariah. He was told to return to Heaven immediately, as Zachariah needed Dean.

_What for?_

_-That is not your business, Castiel._

_No. I was just curious._

_-Don't be._

_What are you going to do to him?_

_-Test him._

_How? I would like to know. I am his guardian._

_-Castiel –_

_Please._

_-I am testing his loyalties, to his life, to hunting, to us. I want to see if, had he been brought up in a different life, he would still choose this one._

_You're throwing him into a stranger's life?_

_-Don't get so defensive, Castiel. You've already gotten yourself in enough trouble over the boy. Now, leave him and return at once._

_Yes sir._

Cas shot Dean a final glance, closing his eyes and praying for Dean's safety. Then he left.


	5. A Sign Of Faith

_**04x18, x20 ("The Monster at the End of This Book", "The Rapture")**_

Cas watched Dean's performance when Zachariah slipped him into a stranger's life – a director of sales and marketing – void of knowledge of demons and spirits. He was given instruction not to interfere in any way, but he kept his eye out for Dean, not helping, just... hoping. And Dean made the right choice in the end, choosing a life hunting demons with Sam – a stranger in his alternate life – over a life of money and titles. In the end, Dean was just born to hunt.

_And he's the one who can save the world, and Heaven. And me._

Dean was leaving the Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc office building when he spotted Cas, leaning against the Impala. He grinned for a moment, taking in the Impala, but rolled his eyes when they landed on Cas.

"You were in on this, huh?" Dean was clearly annoyed. "How much crap are you gonna watch me go through and not help me with? I mean, it was only a ghost, but still, you just let that Zachariah guy throw me into this random job and this ugly suit-"

"I was told not to get involved," Cas told him. Dean just scowled, stopping in front of him, seeming to be waiting for something. Cas didn't know what it was, so he just stood there.

"Are you gonna move so I can get in my car or do I have to get forceful?" Dean snapped finally. "Just because you're a damn angel doesn't mean you have to be so damn pompous."

Cas moved out of the way, feeling sorry. He hadn't known. He'd thought... _Why would Dean want to talk to me? There is nothing for us to talk about._

"Oh, and Cas? I was meaning to say it earlier, but Zachariah swiped my memory."

Dean was sliding into the Impala, but Cas held the door open.

"What is it?"

"I uh..." Dean paused, feeling awkward. "I wanted to thank you. You know, for saving me from Alastair. I mean, you wouldn't've had to if... well, thanks. I'd be dead right now."

"No," Cas assured him. "You wouldn't. We wouldn't let that happen. And it was not I who saved you. It was Sam."

"Sam? Wait – you mean-"

"Yes," Cas answered. "He was using his abilities. He has gotten stronger – he killed Alastair." Cas hadn't told anyone else about it, and they hadn't asked. They assumed Cas had killed Alastair, or Sam had used the knife. "I don't know how he did it, but he saved both of us."

"That doesn't redeem him," Dean muttered angrily. "You don't know how he's getting stronger? It doesn't matter, it means he's practicing or something. He lied." Cas felt sorry that he had brought up the subject, knowing Dean would be angry with Sam now. He wished he hadn't spoken, just let Dean leave.

"I am sorry, Dean," he sighed, letting go of the door. Then a thought occurred to him. "Dean."

"Cas?"

"I... I don't know if I'm allowed to say anything," Cas began, slightly worriedly. "There's something, that you should check out. If you have time."

"A seal?"

"Not quite." Cas gave him an address. "There's something there. Something you've never seen before. It might be useful to you."

"

Dean didn't know what Cas had meant, but he figured if some Heaven-sent angel was telling him to go somewhere, he might as well. It wasn't a seal, so what? What was it? Cas had said it was something useful. That could be a lot of things. But whatever.

Three days later, Dean and Sam showed up at a comic book store, and Dean was already wondering what the hell they were looking for before they reached the door.

There was nothing out-of-the-ordinary about the place. Dean would've been annoyed at Cas, but Cas didn't know how to joke. He'd sent them here for a reason. As to what that reason was, Dean couldn't tell. They began to question the shop owner, showing their fake FBI badges and all that deal, when the man suddenly grinned.

"You're larping!"

_What in the hell does that even mean? That sounds like such a dirty word._ Apparently, it wasn't inappropriate; "LARP" stood for live-action role-play, and the man thought they were pretending to be characters from a book series called "Supernatural". And the characters they were "role-playing" as? Their names were Sam and Dean. And they, well, they sort of hunted for a living. Hunted demons, and spirits, and monsters.

Someone had wrote turned their lives into a series.

Said series wasn't very famous, and they had stopped publishing - the last book having Dean go to Hell. But still... _I know my life is full of weird shit, but this is just freaking beyond the regular._ So now what? What was the point of sending them to find about these books? _What do I do now, Cas?_ How was this person writing about their lives? What were they? Demon? Psychic? Stalker?

The fanbase for the series was pretty creepy too. Consisting mostly of teenage girls who gushed ravidly about how much they loved Dean or Sam (there were actually "Sam girls" and "Dean girls"), and they wrote fanfiction about the series too. And something called slash, which sounded cool, until Sam explained what it was.

"As in, Sam slash Dean. Together."

_Wait... what? _"As in... together-together?" Like, relationship... sleeping together? "They do know we're brothers, right?" _Teenagers. Crazy sons of bitches._ Sure, Dean was fine with whatever got you off, but that was a bit... really, messed up. He gave Sam a disgusted look, making it clear that fiction would never become a reality. _God, that's wrong._

Moving on from the frightening ways of fangirls, they had to find the author – a guy named Carver Edlund. The only problem was that was just an alias – no person named Carver Edlund actually existed. So they went and found the next best thing, his publisher, who – after some convincing – gave them a name and address.

Sam and Dean approached the ramshackled house with trepidation. Did they really want to learn the secrets that lay beyond that door? Sam and Dean traded soulful looks, then, Dean pushed the doorbell with forceful determination.

The man who answered the door was a little more pathetic than they'd been expecting. He came out in a robe, undershirt and boxers, with dark, tired eyes and a scruffy face. He barely cleared their shoulders. They introduced themselves, and he assumed they were fans of the series. He didn't seem very interested in them, but they wanted to know. How the hell he knew every detail of their lives. At first he didn't believe them, but they knew about things he'd never published, never even wrote about. Of course, they knew everything about their lives – it was their lives. But it wasn't his life, so how had he tapped in? Some sort of laser-pointed psychic ability was their best guess.

His name was Chuck. He was a writer and a drinker, mostly. And he was convinced he had written them into reality. And, though the books had stopped with Dean going downstairs, he had never stopped writing. He had just finished a rough copy of another chapter before they'd arrived. And he had written himself into it. He was writing the future.

"Let me see that," Dean ordered, taking the copy from him. "This... this is our future, right?" Chuck nodded. "We're gonna have to borrow this. You won't miss it."

Chuck objected, but he quickly gave up. One of them could snap him like a toothpick, no problem, and he was undoubtedly aware of the fact. They left him after that, giving him a number if he needed anything and heading off to prepare for a night's stay in town. To the laundry mat, where Dean read the script in present time, everything happening just as it was written. He found it amusing, but it really was starting to annoy Sam. Dean was curious too – how come this guy knew so much? Why them? Of course it was them, it was always them, but...why? Maybe that was too big a question. But what was Chuck's connection to them?

_You wanna show your face Cas? Tell us who this guy is?_

An hour later, Sam's phone rang. It was Chuck, and he asked them to come back over. He'd written more.

_Well that was fast. _How did a writer even come up with an idea that fast, let alone write it out? It seemed like an awfully boring life to Dean, just sitting around, waiting for inspiration. And for what? It's not like Chuck was even writing for anyone anymore. _That's probably why he drinks so much._

What Chuck had written, however, was not good. It was very, very far from good.

"It's Lilith," Chuck told them. "She's coming for Sam. Tonight." Chuck put on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and read over his story. Ornately written, Lilith was going to sleep with Sam. Sam laughed at the idea. As if that would ever happen.

_This guy has written every detail of our lives the past few years, and he hasn't been wrong. Why would that change now?_ But, for one thing, Lilith was a little girl. And Sam wouldn't sleep with a child.

"Not anymore," Chuck told them. Right. Demon. She could possess anyone she desired. And now, she was possessing a dental hygenist. As for what would happen after she hooked up with Sam, they didn't know. Chuck hadn't seen that far yet. _Great. This wouldn't be the first time Sam slept with a damn demon._

Dean asked Chuck about how he was seeing their lives. "My process? It starts with a massive headache..." Then drinking, passing out, and then a vivid dream of whatever their lives were. And Dean didn't even have to ask for the script, Chuck just held it up to him knowingly.

"Alright, Sam," Dean muttered. "Let's get the hell outta here." If Chuck said Lilith was going to be in town, they were gonna get out.

They didn't get far. The only way out was to cross a bridge that had been shut down. So they couldn't leave. _Of course. How could I expect anything less of my life? Let's not forget who we're talking about here._ So they were stuck. Perfect. Dean suggested they just do the opposite of whatever the story said, but the odds seemed to be against them. Chuck knew Dean would get a bacon cheeseburger, and then he'd get hit by a van, and his back window would be smashed. He even knew about the stupid flowery bandaids. There was no point in wasting any more time. Dean returned once again to Chuck's. He wasn't there, but Dean broke in anyways, waiting. Chuck came in moments later, carrying his fair share of alcohol, looking unsurprised when he saw Dean.

"You look terrible," he said skittishly.

"That's because I just got hit by a minivan," Dean snapped.

"Oh."

_Are you kidding me? You're a writer, what kind of shit response is 'oh'? _"That's it? Every damn thing you write about me comes true and all you have to say is 'oh'?!"

"Please don't yell at me," Chuck squeaked.

"Why do I get the feeling that there's something you're not telling us?" Dean asked, rising from the lumpy, scratchy arm chair and taking a step towards Chuck.

"What wouldn't I be telling you?" Chuck said nervously.

"How you know what you know, for starters," Dean asked, voice raising angrily.

"I don't know how I know, I just do!"

"That's not good enough." Dean grabbed Chuck by his jacket and pinned him against the wall, glaring. "How the hell are you doing this?!"

"Dean, let him go!"

Dean's heart jumped as he dropped Chuck and turned to the sound of the familiar voice. _About freaking time, Cas._ Dean stared, waiting for an explanation. _Who the hell is this guy?_

"This man has to be protected," Cas told him in his authoritative voice that always worked on Dean in weird ways. _Maybe it's... Supernatural._ Dean almost smacked himself for that horrible pun. _People go to Hell for shit like that, just because you already have doesn't excuse you._ "He's a prophet of the Lord."

_A... prophet? No way. This guy?_ Well, hadn't Cas said it was something he'd never seen before? Dean was sure he'd never met a prophet. _This world is so much stranger than I'd thought._ So, just trust everything the Bible says from now on. Because it all seemed to be true.

"You," Chuck breathed, awestruck behind Dean. "You're Castiel, aren't you?"

Cas nodded. "It's an honour to meet you, Chuck. I... admire your work." _Yeah, you're probably his biggest fan, aren't you? Do you slash us too?_

"This is the guy who decides our fate?" Dean asked Cas.

"He isn't deciding anything," Cas answered, flipping through the pages of one of the Supernatural books absently. That habit of his was so... _Don't finish that thought. We are not going through that again._ "He's a mouthpiece. Conduit for the inspired word."

"The word?" Dean asked, confused. _Wait, like... _"The word of God? What, like the new New Testament?"

"One day these books will be known as the Winchester gospel," Cas said, admiring the book once more before discarding it. So seemingly amused by the simplest things. _Shut up._

"You've gotta be kidding me." Dean said the words, but he saw Chuck mouth them in time, and tried not to yell at him.

"I am not."

Chuck, apparently overcome by the fact that his no-seller books were one day gonna be some huge phenomenon – or something – excused himself, leaving Dean and Cas alone. As soon as he disappeared up the stairs, Dean turned back to Cas.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean repeated. "Him, really?"

"You should've seen Luke." Was that... humour? Dean took a moment to take in the fact that Cas had actually made a joke. Maybe he'd heard him when he'd thought Cas couldn't make a joke. _But he's an angel, why would he even care?_ Whatever, Cas was weird, it was better not to question him.

"How do we get around it?" Dean questioned. "This Sam-Lilith love connection..."

"What the prophet has written can't be unwritten. He has seen it, so it shall come to pass."

"And you knew. Didn't you?" Dean fumed. "You knew this would happen, Lilith would happen... All of it. Why would you send us here? You shouldn't have said anything!"

"She would have found you anyways," Cas told him sadly. "I thought that, at least this way, you have a warning." He didn't say it, but Dean knew he was just trying to help. In his weird, ineffectual way. _He really has to work on his... life skills._ And, to make things worse, Cas would always just disappear when the conversation ceased, or got awkward.

"Don't do it," Dean warned. Cas blinked, eyes dwelling on Dean's. "I know you're gonna go. But you've got to tell me something."

"What do I have to tell you?" Cas wondered.

"Anything," Dean said, almost desperately. "I don't care. Don't just leave."

Cas didn't seem to understand the necessity of it, but after a moment, he seemed to find something he deemed acceptable. "You should go," he advised. "It's not safe here. But you won't."

Dean blinked, and he was alone, wondering what Cas had meant. They should leave town, was that what he was saying? That made sense. He knew that should leave. But what had Cas meant by the last line? _You won't._ Won't leave? To hell they wouldn't! Dean drove back to the motel, determined to get out however they could. But there, Sam told him he wasn't leaving, he would wait for Lilith, and then kill her. And despite Dean's arguing, he didn't back down.

Dean stepped out of the hotel, having to get away from Sam for a while. It was cool outside, and he let the frigid air numb his anger towards his brother, and Lilith, even Chuck and Cas. He stopped at a vending machine, wanting to get a coke before he went for a drive, but it didn't work. And for some reason, that broke Dean. He felt hopeless, defeated, scared. So much was wrong – the apocalypse, Lilith, Sam's powers... Everything seemed to be slipping out of Dean's control and he felt alone and afraid. So he decided to pray.

When people needed help, they often sought comfort in praying to God, but Dean couldn't care less for God. He was sure the feeling was mutual. But he prayed to Cas, because he felt sometimes like Cas could understand him, and maybe Cas could help him somehow. He just couldn't keep up being the brave big brother and save the world and be the hero act. He needed someone. And Cas was someone who listened.

"Well, I feel stupid doing this," Dean muttered. "But I am fresh out of options." _Cas... _"Please, I need some help." _... I need you._ _I know we don't get along all the time, but I need you to help me, you're the only one who can._ Cas didn't appear. Dean closed his eyes, frustrated and trying to focus. _Cas, help me._ "I'm praying, come on! Please..."

"Prayer is a sign of faith." The voice came from behind him, and Dean followed it to see Cas ten feet away from him. He just stared, amazed that it had worked, that Cas had actually come here for him. Cas walked forward, seeming to crave being near Dean, as he always worked his way towards him.

"So, does this mean you'll help me?" Dean wondered.

"I'm not sure what I can do," Cas admitted.

"Drag Sam out of here," Dean told him.

Cas just shook his head. _Why not?! You can't just let Sam go through with this. Please Cas!_ "It's a prophecy. I can't interfere."

_Can't? Or won't? You could get him out of here, save him. But you won't, because it's not forseen by some psychic?_ "You have tested me," Dean said, Cas's eyes averting his. "And thrown me every which way, and I have _never_ asked for anything – not a damn thing. But now I'm asking, I need your help. _Please_."

Cas met his eyes, staring achingly. The cerulean eyes sent shivers pulsing under Dean's skin, and Dean felt a desperate longing for him. _Please, Cas. I need you. I can't do this on my own. Please help me_.

"What you're asking," Cas mumbled, glancing at the sky miserably. "It's... not within my power to do."

"Why, because it's divine prophecy? So what, we're supposed to just sit around and wait for it to happen?" That wasn't good enough. Dean couldn't just sacrifice Sam to Lilith because someone had wrote it down that it would go that way. And he searched Cas's face, doubt creased in every line, knowing he didn't want that either, but he was chained.

"I'm sorry."

Dean knew he meant it, but it didn't matter. "Screw you." Cas's face fell. "You and your mission, your god. If you don't help me now, then when the time comes and you need me, don't bother knocking." He brushed past Cas, feeling sick, because he didn't want to say that to Cas, and he was walking away from his final hope for Sam. He knew it wasn't Cas's fault. But now he had nothing.

"

_Screw you_. Dean was mad at him, and it made him feel agonizing pain in his – well, not his heart, but that was the idea. Cas was hurt, wishing he could help Dean. And when Dean began to stride past him, every instinct screamed not to let him walk away.

"Dean," Cas tried to say, voice breaking. Dean kept walking, not having heard him. "Dean!" _Don't be angry, don't leave me. I need you to help me._

"What?" Dean snapped.

Cas got an idea. Maybe he couldn't help Dean personally, but he could give him something to go off. He caught Dean's gaze and held it, trying to speak with his eyes. "You must understand why I can't interceed. Prophets are very special and protected-"

"I get that," Dean barked, face clouded with anger. _No, you don't._ _Please try to understand._

"If _anything_ threatens a prophet," Cas continued desperately. "Anything at all, an archangel will appear to destroy that threat." _Anything including Lilith. Come on Dean, you're smart enough to catch on to that, aren't you?_ Dean still didn't seem to get it, so Cas went on. "Archangels are fierce, absolute. They're Heaven's most terrifying weapon."

Cas could see the understanding bubble into Dean's face. His forehead burrowed, his eyes now transmitting messages back to Cas. _Yes, that is what I mean, Dean. Do you get it now?_

"These archangels, they're tied to prophets?" Dean asked, face scrunched up in speculation.

"Yes." _He knows. _

"So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon..." Dean trailed off, his thoughts very obvious as he approached Cas. Cas could hardly hold back a smile.

"Then the most fearsome wrath of Heaven would rain down on that demon." Dean stopped a foot away from Cas, and he could feel the life radiating from him. _Am I getting too close?_ Cas worried about getting in trouble for this. But he technically hadn't told Dean anything... Still, Heaven could be meticulous. _I'm just helping him out. We need him on our side._ Cas was unable to hold Dean's eyes anymore, looking around nervously as if he expected angels to appear and punish him. "Just so you understand why I can't help you." It wasn't a lie. Cas didn't want to get in trouble from an archangel. It just wasn't the only reason. He shot Dean a final, knowing glance.

"Thanks Cas," Dean told him sincerely.

Despite his worries for himself, Cas gave him a small smile. "Good luck."

"

Cas returned to Heaven, where Zachariah waited, looking unimpressed.

"Human duty?" he sneered. "Did you have a nice chat with Dean?"

"Zachariah, I-"

"I don't want to hear it Castiel," Zachariah cut in. "You're slipping right into his possession. He is a _human_, and you are better than him."

"We need him, Zachariah. He's the one who's going to stop the apocalypse."

"Who exactly do you think 'we' is?" Zachariah hissed. "Because the angels don't need him one bit. The humans do, not us. You are not a human, Castiel. Now, I want you to stay away from him. He doesn't need you and you don't need him. You're only walking yourself down a road you won't be happy going down. Keep your loyalties to us. If you continue to disobey, you'll regret pulling Dean Winchester out of Hell."

"

"Castiel! What are you doing?"

Cas was back down on Earth, invisible, watching Dean sink into the Impala after a night of ghoul-fighting. He had just wanted to ensure that Dean was alright. He was just watching over him as usual. He was Dean's guardian, what was so wrong with that?

Apparently, a lot was wrong with that. Zachariah began scolding Cas about his attachment to the human and how his emotions were getting out of control.

"I care about this Earth," Castiel said. "The humans, they are our father's creation. I don't want to see them destroyed. Don't you feel the same way, brother?"

Zachariah rolled his eyes. "You aren't worrying about the humans, you're worrying about Dean Winchester. Have you saved any other humans? Can you even name five that aren't Dean?"

"Dean is the most important. His world rests in his hands-"

"Castiel, stop lying to yourself!" Zachariah gave him a severe look. "Do you really think we're going to try and stop the apocalypse? Why would we? We aren't going to, Castiel. We are going to let Hell come to Earth, and then we will fight them. And we will win, and there will be Paradise on Earth and in Heaven. Dean won't stop the apocalypse, we will ensure that."

Cas stared blankly as Zachariah's words sunk in. _What?_ "But, the humans-"

"It's all about the humans with you!" Zachariah cried. "Stop worrying about the petty humans, think about _us_! Don't you want peace on Earth? Surely God would want it, Castiel."

"And at what price comes peace?" Cas asked, horrified. "How many must be sacrificed for it? Humans, angels, we will pay greatly if faced with the apocalypse."

"Their lives will be spent for future generations. Do not think about the battle, Castiel. Think of the reward. And we will be greatly rewarded." Zachariah gave Cas a smile. "Now, stop pestering over the human boy. Let's return to our kingdom."

Cas was stunned, unable to process. The apocalypse would happen. Lives would be lost, so many lives. After all this time, and already angels were dying for the cause, pointlessly. But Cas should have realized – months ago, Uriel had said Heaven didn't want them to fight anymore. Cas had almost forgotten about it. He had hardly questioned it at the time, but now he knew. And they were lying to Dean, letting him believe he could save the world.

_Dean!_ Cas had to warn him. "I'll be there shortly," Cas told Zachariah.

"Behave, Castiel," Zachariah warned before vanishing.

Cas located Dean, pulling in to a motel parking lot. He wanted to speak to him then, but he couldn't, not with people able to hear him. They had to meet somewhere safe. An hour later, Dean was asleep, and Cas appeared to him in a dream. He asked Dean to meet him at a certain address, and then quickly went to that address to set up blocks against angels.

Unfortunately, Zachariah caught him. He showed up with two henchmen, although they were unnecessary; Cas wasn't as strong as Zachariah anyways.

"Castiel. You have disobeyed," Zachariah told him. "You want to choose them over us? _We _are your brothers, and you side with the pathetic humans? You turn to those pathetic creatures and follow their orders, turn your back on us? Leave your vessel. Return to Heaven. Your punishment awaits, great and highly deserved. You are weakening Castiel, your emotions control you nearly as much as the Winchester boy. Do not argue, I know you saw him, you were going to have him come here and tell him everything I told you! Your loyalties are to Heaven, not Dean!"

"I won't go," Cas said, trembling. Maybe Zachariah was right, but he couldn't go back to Heaven. Heaven was corrupt. He couldn't leave Dean trying to fend for himself against Heaven and Hell. He had to warn him about the angels' plan, about everything. He wasn't leaving.

"Castiel, this is your last chance! Go to Heaven or I will make you!"

Cas didn't move. Then he felt blinding pain, catching a glimpse of Zachariah walking towards him, a hand outstretched. Through the pain, Cas fought, stepping back. The lightbulbs blew out, shattering around them. The pressure of Zachariah trying to expel Cas and Cas's determined will sent things flying, smashing, destroying their surroundings. Cas thought of the humans, of Dean, and he pushed Zachariah's force away for a moment, gasping. There was an explosion of power, and the building seemed to be faltering. Everything was breaking, falling apart. But Zachariah reached him, and lay a hand on his head, and there was pain and light. And he was gone from Earth.

"

Castiel was sent to a place where time had no meaning, and torture was endless. Zachariah was feeling less than friendly, and instead of just resetting Castiel, he put him through merciless suffering. He screamed at him that he would never sway his allegiance from Heaven again, Dean Winchester was only a pawn of God, a lesser creature with no authority over an angel. It was drilled incessantly into Castiel's head, coupled with ferocious anguish for what would have been years, except time was nothing in this dimension. All the worst pain imaginable – from being struck by lightning to being burned alive, sliced to pieces, stabbed repeatedly, spontaneously combusting – was rolled into one torturous method. That was the power angels were granted, and that pain was what Castiel was forced to go through. It didn't get easier – if anything, the intensity increased, and all Castiel could do was scream and plea to have it end, swear his loyalty, pray to God. But it didn't stop. For years it continued, and finally Castiel couldn't cry anymore. He couldn't understand why he would ever disobey, ever even consider an insignificant human being having any influence over him. His emotions were seared out of him, and he returned to the acquiescent warrior he had been before Dean Winchester. He had no desire to even be in Dean's presence anymore. He just didn't care.

"You may return to Earth, Castiel, and reclaim your vessel," Zachariah told him. And he obeyed. He found his previous vessel, Jimmy Novak, but decided instead on his daughter, Claire. She agreed to be Castiel's vessel. But Jimmy wouldn't allow it, and Castiel re-entered his old vessel, warning him that there would be no turning back this time.

Once Castiel had his human vessel back, he made to go, but Dean Winchester stopped him.

"Cas, hold up," he said as Castiel passed. Annoyed at the pet name and lack of respect, Castiel turned coldly to look at the human. "What were you gonna tell me?" Dean asked.

Castiel didn't even think about what it was. He didn't care. He didn't have to tell a human anything. And if God wanted the apocalypse, it wasn't Castiel's place to question it, he would just let it happen. "I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve Heaven, I don't serve man. And I certainly don't serve _you_." The man who had manipulated him, caused him to disobey. Dean Winchester wasn't worthy of his time. Castiel turned his back and left the brothers without a second thought.

"

Dean watched as Cas walked by him without even looking his way, feeling worried. Anna had said Cas had been dragged back to Heaven, and he seemed different... What had they done to him? It didn't matter, Dean supposed. He just wanted to know what Cas had wanted to tell him. But Cas blew him off cold-heartedly.

"I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean." Cas almost spat the last word, and his eyes looked hard and dead and unfeeling. It frightened Dean. "I serve Heaven, I don't serve man. And I certainly don't serve _you_." Cas's voice was full of loathing, and Dean didn't understand how he had changed so much, so suddenly. He seemed to hate Dean now. No, that wasn't right.

He _did_ hate Dean.

* * *

**Author's note: Dropped a reminder of Sam/Dean slash - Dean doesn't have feelings for Sam anymore because those memories mysteriously disappeared after he returned from Hell (referencing to pt1 of this story), but that will be brought up in future chapters. In the nearer future, Cas's intensifying feelings for Dean -despite getting in crap for it- will return (of course). Reviews/ideas/criticism would be appreciated, but thanks for all those reading :)**


	6. Worth Dying For

_**04x21, x22 ("When the Levee Breaks", "Lucifer Rising")**_

Dean's life was becoming ridiculously complicated. The apocalypse was nigh and he was expected to stop it; he'd found out his brother was drinking demon blood, which was just wonderful; and now Cas was inexplicably pissed at him, and, despite the fact that Cas sometimes was a pain in the ass, he was starting to grow on Dean, which was never good for Dean. He always seemed to lose the people he cared about.

_You aren't supposed to care about him. He's an angel. If you save the world – or if you don't – he's going to leave you, stop caring. You'll be nothing to him. He's just using you to fight his war._ Not that Cas could ever care enough to die for him anyways. But Dean had thought maybe there was more with Cas than the other angels. Maybe he meant something more to him. Well, not any more apparently – Heaven seemed to have ripped that part back out of him, made him their bitch again. So while Dean was forced to lock up Sam in Bobby's basement, while also trying to figure out how to stop Lilith, he was dealing with losing whatever he'd had with Cas. He didn't even know what it was, he just knew it was gone.

But that wasn't okay with him. Maybe later, but not right now. He _needed_ Cas to help him at least while Lilith was breaking the seals. He couldn't stop her alone. Not sure what to do, he went out into Bobby's yard and called for Cas. No answer, no man in a trench coat appearing. He kept calling, unable to accept that he had lost Cas when he needed him the most. He yelled, screamed, pleaded for Cas to give him a few minutes, and still nothing.

"Cas! Castiel! Please, _please _Cas, I need your help! I can't do this without you... Cas! Cas, you son of a bitch! I know you can hear me! _Please!_" He called until his throat was raw and aching, his voice cracking. He was out there for hours, but he wouldn't give up. He refused to believe that Cas would just leave him. "I know you're listening! I'm sorry, I know I've gotten you in a lot of crap, and you probably hate me, fine. But I need you, just this time, please. I need your help..."

He stared at the sky, full of stars and empty of hope. He felt defeated. _Please, Cas..._ He raised his hands in despair. And then he felt Cas's presence, and turned. Cas was surprisingly distant from him, but all the same, Dean's heart picked up. He hated that, the neon sign that gave him away. _It's only because he's finally here. He's going to help me._

"About time," Dean said, the words clawing at his throat. "I've been screaming myself hoarse out here for about two and a half hours now."

He wasn't sure why he expected sympathy, but he was disappointed. "What do you want?" Cas asked numbly. The words twisted his stomach as he realized Cas was still so inhuman.

_Where do I start?_ "You were gonna tell me something," Dean prodded.

"Nothing of import," Cas muttered as he closed the space between them. Cas's face was inches from Dean's, and he could feel Cas breathing, see the waves of various shades of blue that made up Cas's eyes – but those eyes were ice cold. Dean hated the new and unimproved Cas, hated that just because Cas _cared_ about him, he was punished for it, and now, whatever had went down, Cas was back to square one, back to his unfeeling, horrible self. And he wouldn't tell him what he'd wanted to. "Dean, I can't. I'm sorry." Dean could see a flicker of guilt in his eyes, and Cas stepped away from him, as if being in close proximity to Dean was as wearing for Cas as the reverse was for Dean. Even now, when Cas seemed to hardly want to be here, with everything telling Dean that he was an ass and shouldn't waste his time on such an arrogant prick, he felt scatter-brained as the memory of Cas's breath brushing his face replayed itself.

"

Castiel heard Dean calling him repeatedly, and hard as he tried not to care, each cry wounded him. But Zachariah wasn't letting Castiel go down to Earth, wasn't letting him give in to the pathetic human. Finally, it became too much for Castiel, and he asked for permission to go to Dean. It took a lot of effort, but Castiel promised he could get Dean to sign himself over to them, and Zachariah let Castiel go.

Castiel was insistent on getting right to the point. To Dean, surely, it was as though he didn't want to have to stick around, as if he was wasting his time. Castiel kept his distance, back turned, speaking in a professional manner. But he slowly came back, without even thinking about it. He was drawn to Dean, and he hated that. Dean had some gravitational pull on him – no matter how hard he tried to stay away, he was always dragged right back in. _Dean Winchester is not in charge of me. I do not have to listen to him, or do anything for him._ Yet Castiel still ached for Dean's presence. After everything, as much as Castiel wanted to hate him, he still wanted to feel his energy, his life pulsing in the air around him. It made Castiel hate himself. He fought his instincts, against Heaven and his own nature, to make an exception for this simple human, and he also fought against that urge. And he could tell it was throwing Dean off, because one line Castiel would sound like a dick angel, the next he would sound like a caring human. He tried to be cold, a soldier, a statue; he wanted to not care. He had never cared, never felt, never worried about any of it; and now he was having some identity crisis. And it was Dean Winchester's fault.

"You're a dick these days," Dean shot at him. Castiel almost folded. He didn't want Dean to be mad at him – _but it does not matter. His opinion means nothing._ Castiel got Dean to agree to serve the angels.

"Now you wait," Castiel told him. "And we call on you when it's time." The words came out callously, and Castiel could remember years of being so simply heartless. How had, after thousands of years, one man changed him so abruptly, out of the blue? What about Dean Winchester could flip that switch in Castiel? He didn't know, but he hated it. _No, the angels hate it._ And since Castiel was an angel, he had to hate it too.

Dean shook his head, and though Castiel wondered why, he didn't ask about it. _It does not matter. It is not relevant to my mission. _Dean explained anyway. "You know, as much of an asshole as you're being, as heartless and horrible and the _perfect_ poster-boy angel you suddenly are, I still see through you. I know what it's like, to hide everything, hole it all up and just listen to daddy. You don't even let in the people you care about – in fact, you hide it most from them. But in my experience, the more you try to hide, the more people see. So you go ahead and be a dick, I know you're still in there, buried under all of Zachariah's or whoever's crap."

Castiel felt himself being pulled back to Heaven, and faced Zachariah again. "He's trying to make you join him, trying to command you Castiel. Do not listen to him. He will portray us as the bad guys and then try and win you over, but he is the only wicked one here. Now, Castiel, I want you to go release Sam Winchester from Dean's trap, and then I want you to call Anna. She thinks you are on her side, and you will use that to turn her in, do you understand?" Castiel simply nodded, returning to Earth and freeing Sam before calling out to Anna. Part of him wished she wouldn't show up, but she did, and he let her be taken away.

_What am I doing?_ He was following orders. _But they don't feel right. How can this be right?_ It came from Heaven. _But Heaven... it's not Heaven anymore. It's not God's._ It was not his place to question Heaven or God. But he was afraid. _Just follow your orders, and you won't have any reason to fear. _

But he watched as Sam escaped and found Ruby, and Dean went after him. And they fought, and it hurt Dean. But it didn't matter. He was ordered to bring Dean to a safe house while they waited for Sam to kill Lilith, telling Dean they were just waiting for the right moment, but that was a lie. They were going to keep him locked up until Lucifer was freed.

_It's what Heaven wants. He's the one who will defeat Lucifer. It's for the good of us all._ Castiel hated himself for arguing. Would he really choose one human over all others _and_ the angels? That was stupid, and he knew it. What they were doing was right...

Dean didn't overly enjoy the idea of being locked up, but Zachariah didn't care. "You swore your obedience, so obey." Dean shot Castiel a look over Zachariah's shoulder, questions filling his eyes. _Wanna explain Cas? How can you just sit back and be okay with this? Is this all right?_ Yes, it was. He didn't need Dean's doubts clouding his own judgement too. He was having enough trouble as it was without his help. And Dean was afraid, which made it worse for some reason.

_That doesn't even make sense. Why would Dean being scared affect you?_ But it did. He watched as Dean called his brother, trying to reach out to him, watched as he took out his stress by breaking things in the room. And it did something to Castiel. Dean's fear of the unknown, him falling apart in what he assumed was his final hours, hurt Castiel. _That's stupid. Stop letting the human control your emotions. You shouldn't even _have_ emotions._

Then Zachariah told Castiel Dean wanted to talk to him. Zachariah was reluctant to allow him to go, but he seemed to think Castiel was stable enough. Dean wanted to go see Sam. Castiel heard Zachariah's voice in his head, telling him that wasn't going to happen. And Castiel knew Zachariah hadn't had a second thought about letting him be the one to talk to Dean – he'd planned it. He knew what Dean was going to ask, and he was testing Castiel to see how he would act. If he would break. Castiel took up the challenge, rejecting Dean's idea. But fighting with Dean was sorrowing. Inhibiting him, angering him, antagonizing him. Castiel wanted to be on Dean's side, yet he kept forcing himself further away. _I have to. Those are my orders._ But he wondered what Dean would say to that. 'Screw your orders! What do _you _want?'

_No. I will not disobey again. I will not go against Heaven's will._ Despite his doubts that Heaven was still right. He had to follow orders. He had to trust them.

"Castiel, I want you to go tell Dean about our true plans for him. That he's not really stopping Lilith from breaking the seal," Zachariah ordered.

"I can't." _Why not? Because you don't want to be the one to break it to him because he'll hate you? Or because you think he'll talk you out of it? _Castiel wasn't sure what was stopping him. He just knew that he couldn't do it. "It would be better coming from you. You're more powerful than I am, and he seems to see me as something... weaker. I don't think he will listen to me."

"Castiel-"

"I'm sorry Zachariah, but I think hearing it from you will be better."

Castiel won that fight, and he guessed it was because Zachariah knew he would watch anyways, knew he would still suffer. And he did. He saw pain seeping out of Dean's being when it was revealed that the world was going to end. Heard the fear when he asked about what would happen to the humans – and it wasn't fear for himself, it was fear for the innocent people who were caught in the crossfire. Castiel knew he couldn't change destiny, but he had to do something to make it up to Dean. Well, maybe not make it up to him, but at least try to make him understand. He wouldn't ask Zachariah for permission – he knew he would only be turned down – but he was afraid of doing something against his superior's will. Especially something that involved the emotions Zachariah had tried so hard to scrub out of him. Castiel argued with himself over whether it was worth it, telling himself over and over that Dean was just a human and he was meaningless and he was only good for killing Lucifer, but Castiel knew he was lying to himself. Zachariah could believe what he wanted, that Castiel – Cas; Dean called him Cas, and he wanted to be who Dean wanted him to be – couldn't have emotions and couldn't be attached to Dean and couldn't care for him, but he did. There was no questioning it, no denying. Everything he had gone through for him, and still he went back to him? They had a strong connection, and he was done trying to break it.

"

Cas returned to the room Dean was locked in as Dean tried to reach Sam fruitlessly. Dean asked him about Sam, but Cas didn't answer him. So then he inquired why Cas had even shown up.

"We've been through much together, you and I," Cas said, clearly hoping Dean would understand. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry that it had to end this way." _You're sorry? You're sorry that you lied to me and told me I would stop the apocalypse and now you're going to kill our species because some old bitch-drama with a bitch angel? You think sorry is gonna cut it?_ _Sorry won't take back all the crap you've put me through this past year._ Dean wanted to slap himself for reminding himself that, this guy had rescued him from Hell, and if he hadn't, that would've been another hundred years he'd have been down there, so maybe he should be a little grateful. And Cas had his share of crap in this too, Dean knew it. The look in his own eyes when he thought about his time in Hell – about the torture, the horrors, the things that words could never describe – was reflected in Cas's own eyes after he'd get dragged back up to Heaven. Cas went through his own kind of Hell for Dean. But it was all the same, Cas had done everything he'd done for nothing, because he was going to let the angels bring on the apocalypse. So they both lost.

"It's armaggedon, Cas, you need a bigger word than 'sorry'," Dean hissed.

"Try to understand, this is long foretold," Cas said heatedly. Cas was so much like him. He just wanted to please the angels, wanted to follow orders and believe in what he'd always known. It was black and white for him, just like it was for Dean. But this was a gray area for him, and he didn't know how to handle that. Dean knew how he felt, and he was sorry for the angel. "This is your-"

"Destiny? God's plan? It's all a bunch of lies, you poor stupid son of a bitch!" For once, Dean felt like Cas was the child here, and he could see that innocence burning in his eyes. "You know what's real? People, families. And you're gonna watch them all burn?"

"What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here," Castiel said, sounding reverted to his angelic emptiness. "I see inside you, your guilt, your anger, confusion." Was that true? Did Cas know his thoughts? He said it harshly, but at the same point there was a hint of sadness, like he was sorry Dean was stuck suffering. But he also knew Cas was only trying to convince himself that ending the world was right. _Would you let yourself believe that, Cas? Just so you can kill everyone? There are good things in the world, even if you can't see them in me. _"In Paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace."

Cas looked away, surely doubting himself. Dean caught his eye, and brought Cas's attention back to him. _Cas, you're lying to yourself. Just trust me._ "This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier!" Dean had learned that on his own. Once it had been all he'd ever known, and now Cas was in that boat. But he wasn't going to let Cas just sit around when he knew it wasn't okay. "There is a right and there is a wrong here and you know it." Cas had turned away from him, not wanting to hear it. He was afraid, and Dean got that, but he had to know he wasn't alone. He grabbed Cas's arm and spun him around. "Look at me! You know it! You were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were gonna warn me about all this before they dragged you back to Bible camp. Help me now, _please_!"

"

Cas could hear the desperation as Dean fought to save his fellow man, and he wanted to give in. All he wanted was to help Dean, and he could hardly think of why that was wrong. Because Dean's hold on him was unyielding, and Cas knew he'd been willing to put his faith in him before. Honestly, he was pretty certain he'd never lost faith in him, even when the angels had tried to pull it out of him.

"What would you have me do?" Cas asked doubtfully.

"Get me to Sam, we can stop it before its too late!" Dean cried. He made it sound so simple, but that wasn't what Cas had meant. Dean was asking him to rebel against Heaven. _I can't_. Why not? Hadn't he already considered it, more than once recently? He had begun to question Heaven. But Dean had never changed. Dean was the only constant Cas had now. But if he agreed, he was putting himself in danger, and more importantly, he was putting Dean in danger. If he chose to fight with Dean, he was throwing him in harm's way. He could get killed, and then what would Cas do? What would he have left?

"I do that, and we will all be hunted, we'll all be killed!"

"If there was anything worth dying for, this is it," Dean said quietly. _For you. For your people. Maybe I could save Heaven too._ Because Cas still knew this wouldn't be what God wanted. He didn't know where God was, but this wasn't His way. But with God gone, the Heavens fraudulent, Cas was afraid. God wasn't commanding the angels, and they would kill him and Dean on the spot. He wasn't sure if he was willing to sacrifice that. He shook his head, dropping his eyes, unable to see Dean's hatred towards him. But Dean seemed so repulsed by him that he couldn't even stand near him, walking as far away from Cas as possible. _It's no less than you deserve, _Cas told himself as he felt the pain of sorrow. "You spineless, soulless son of a bitch. What do you care about dying? You're already dead. We're done."

"Dean-" He didn't know what to say. He was sorry? He was scared? He didn't want to lose him? All selfish reasons, nothing Dean would want to hear.

"We're done."

Cas knew he was unwanted, and returned to Heaven, watching Dean despairingly. _It was your destiny, Cas. You were meant to save him, and he was meant to save you. God led you to him, are you going to just let him go? Do you choose the Heaven who has turned on God, or Dean, who is on your father's side?_ _You have always been unswervingly loyal to God, always. Will you change that now because the other angels have? Or will you trust Dean, who God wanted you to have faith in? Make the right choice Cas._

He glanced around Heaven, fearing he wouldn't see the place again. _I'm sorry. But you are not God's kingdom anymore._ There would be no turning back now. He had to move quickly before Zachariah caught on to what he was doing.

He was back in Dean's jail room, appearing behind him and pushing him up against the wall, a hand over his mouth. He kept his eyes on Dean's, trying to explain without words. _Alright, you win. I'll help you. Please understand, I don't have much time. _Fortunately, he caught on fast, and Cas took his hand away from Dean's he sliced into his arm and started drawing a sigil on the wall in his blood, anticipating Zachariah. When he appeared, Cas sent him away, and then explained that Lilith was the final seal.

"We have to find Lilith," Cas told Dean.

"

"How?" Cas didn't answer, just touching Dean's forehead and sending them to Chuck. He could help them find Lilith. He'd already written about it. A convent called St Mary's, that's where Lilith could be found. But Chuck was confused.

"You guys aren't supposed to be there," he told them. "You're not in this story."

"Yeah well," Cas muttered. "We're making it up as we go."

Dean knew it wasn't really a good time, but he stared at Cas in admiration. He couldn't help but be amazed at how loyal Cas was to him so immediately, how he was just giving up everything he'd ever known for thousands of years. No more following orders, just following Dean.

They didn't have time to sit and be awestruck by Cas's transformation. Chuck's archangel showed up, and Cas sent Dean off to stop Sam, telling him he would hold off the angels. _Can you even do that? Archangels are Heaven's best weapon, you told me yourself. You were afraid of it... _Dean didn't even get to say goodbye to Cas before he was sent away. What if he never saw the angel again?

And they lost. Dean couldn't stop Sam in time. Lilith was killed, the seal broken, Lucifer freed. The next time Dean saw Chuck, he asked about Cas. And he was dead. The archangel had killed him. It was all pointless.

For what it was worth, Dean wished he'd never let Cas help him.

* * *

**AN: And so ends season 4 and begins 5. I'm actually proud of this chapter. Because _finally! _Emotions from Cas, and it's only gonna get worse from here (which is a good thing). **


	7. Foolish

_**05x1-2 ("Sympathy for the Devil", "Good God, Y'all!") **_

**Warning: "Sexual" content. (Not really, but sort of. It's vaguely mentioned.)**

Castiel was one of many angels stationed to watch over Earth, ensure it's safety from any adversaries – mostly, Lucifer and his army of demons. He watched the humans for thousands of years, some dying, some being born, some following strange trends, or devoting their lives to God, taking care of their families, and sometimes even hunting after Heaven's enemies. They were a fascinating species, always seeking out more, never satisfied with the minimum, always reaching, pushing, taking, going. He watched as they learned and grew, but began to push away from God, craving independence and freedom. God loosened his reigns, and Castiel saw the world slowly begin to decay, convinced they were getting better, lying to themselves to hide the fact that they were falling apart.

Castiel didn't really care. It was his duty to watch them, no more. Those were his orders, and this was God's will. So he accepted that the humans might off themselves, because whether they lived or died didn't affect him – they were all going to die one day anyways, and if that happened, Castiel would be given something else to do. He was just happy to serve his father, and although he wanted the humans to stick around – they were his father's creation, and it would be a shame to see them go to waste – they would be relieved in Paradise. Not like many humans made it to Heaven anymore – they'd all lost faith, stopped caring, and lost their ticket to eternal peace. But that wasn't Castiel's problem either. He just took care of himself, fulfilled his role, remained obedient, an ideal angel.

He was in the garrison led by the angel Anna, and she was a great angel too. However, gradually she began to change. She sought something more, just as Lucifer once had. She disobeyed, and fell from grace. It came as a shock to them all, and Castiel didn't understand why she would want to degrade herself like that. It didn't matter though – that was her destiny, and what was done was done. Castiel took her place as head of the garrison, and he took the responsibility of the other angels without complaint – he was proud that his father believed he could handle them, and he wanted to prove to Him just how great of an angel he was, and not disappoint Him as Anna had.

And he pleased his father, his superiors. Everyone in Heaven admired him, respected him. He was a great angel, full of promise; a great soldier, docile and dedicated, resilient and effectual. This was undoubtedly the reason he was chosen to save the man who would stop the apocalypse.

They received word that a great demon, Lilith, the first demon, had made plans to raise Lucifer from his cage in Hell. In order to go through with this, she would have to break 66 of six hundred seals holding him down, the first of which involved an unknowing human shedding blood in Hell. Castiel was sent the message from his superiors that he had been chosen to have the honour to play the great role in stopping that man before he broke the seal. It did not matter to him what the mission was, just that it was God-sent, and highly of import, and he was being greatly depended on.

It turned out to be of greater difficulty than Castiel had anticipated, fighting his way through Hell to find the man who would bring on the end of the human world. Castiel was ashamed to be unable to make it in time, and the first seal was broken before he could prevent it. Still, he continued his battle through Hell, finally stumbling upon the man and raising him from Hell, renewing his body and returning his soul to his physical being. This man's name was Dean Winchester.

When Castiel laid his eyes on Dean's soul in the midst of Hell, he... felt. He had seen billions of souls, blank, invariable. Though they all had diverse physical bodies, their existences were all quite insignificant to Castiel. Humans, angels, demons – Castiel had felt nothing coercing him to any being in his thousands of years. He could recall names and faces, but they had no value. This soul was different, it stood out. It burned vigorously, filled with pain and sorrow and brokenness, but also with power and love and allure. It captured him as nothing ever had before, branding itself on him as nothing else had. It was complicated, complex – and important. This was the soul that would carry out a very significant mission of God. Castiel wanted to read it over in depth – try to understand why this soul was so enigmatically momentous to him – but he was given orders against it, told only to alter a few things. Namely, to dim any attachments that could deter or distract Dean from his task – such as the hard-hitting loss of his father, and his, in Heaven's mind, too-high and unacceptable affection for his brother. Also, Castiel was asked to take away Dean's memories of Hell, and return them to him gradually. He performed as he was advised, wishing to redeem himself after having already failed half of his mission.

After returning Dean's soul to Earth, Castiel proceeded back to Heaven, awaiting further revelation. He met his immediate superior, Zachariah, who congratulated him on a job well done, despite a slight hassle. He was told not to worry, that Heaven could certainly take on Lilith, and that God would not be disappointed in him.

"You have a strong connection to the boy, Dean Winchester. This is not a bad thing Castiel. You will be a key part in his role – you will communicate with him, guide him in the right direction, help him as much as you can. Your fates have now become intertwined, and although you were unsuccessful in preventing the seal from breaking - have faith in God's plan for you, Castiel. He has sent you to Dean Winchester for a reason - he is the one who will defeat Lilith, and Lucifer. You will find redemption in him. Just as you have saved him, now he may save you."

"

_I'll hold them off, I'll hold them all off! Just stop Sam!_

They were the last words Dean ever heard Cas say. They replayed in his head constantly and he hated it – that he hadn't even followed through on Cas's final request, even though Cas had done his part. He had sacrificed everything – _everything _– for Dean, and Dean had just let him die. Losing Cas tore Dean up in ways he wouldn't have imagined over someone he was only just starting to get to know. He hadn't even believed it at first – he thought it had been Cas who had saved them, teleported them out of the convent and onto the plane. But Cas had already been gone at that point.

The worst part was, the angel was finally free from his ropes, and the first thing he did was die. He shouldn't have listened to Dean, should've just ran while he had the chance. Screw helping him, it wouldn't have mattered anyways; he should've left Dean and made a go at life on his own. But he couldn't win – there were no options for him, it was live for Heaven or not at all. If only Dean hadn't convinced him to help, if he'd just left him alone instead of making him turn against Heaven... Cas had been scared, he hadn't wanted to, but he'd made up his mind that, for whatever reason, he wanted to save the humans, help Dean stop Lilith. Dean wanted to go back in time, tell Cas not to worry about it. Because they hadn't stopped the apocalypse, which was horrible enough, but Cas had died pointlessly.

Dean wondered where angels even went when they died, and if Cas could still hear him wherever that was. He prayed to Cas, telling him he was sorry, he wished he could've saved him, and now it was all too little, too late. He hated that he'd lost the angel, just like everyone else he'd ever cared about, and he'd known from the start it was going to happen. And he hadn't cared, he was so set on saving his world and his brother and himself that he was willing to risk losing the angel. Dean was almost grateful the world would end soon so he wouldn't have to keep living with the ever-growing death count he was responsible for.

It wasn't just Cas, it was everyone. The whole world was going to die now because the angels wanted it to happen, because God had apparently stepped down and the angels thought they could end the world. Billions of people were going to die and there would be no one left. And all because of Dean. But he could stop it, if he could stop Lucifer. And maybe, if he could do that, he could take himself out. Go down fighting – but not until Lucifer was dead, because he wouldn't leave Sam alone in this fucked up world, having to fight the apocalypse that was Dean's damn fault, without his help. And maybe, just maybe, the angels would be good on their word – that was doubtful – and Dean wouldn't have to go back to Hell. He could rest in peace. But he wasn't going to get his hopes too high, there was only so much one man could have.

Apparently, the only way to kill Lucifer was using the Michael sword – whatever that was; the sword of the angel Michael, but where the hell would they even find that? But Chuck, he knew – he sent a messenger to give them an address, which happened to be a storage place of Dean's father's. Sam and Dean went, and were greeted by Zachariah and his posse, who seemed totally indifferent to their loss of Castiel. And according to them, Dean would be the weapon to kill Lucifer. He just wouldn't be doing it in his own power.

"You thought youcould _actually_ kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing?" Zachariah sneered. "No. You're just a human, Dean, and not much of one. You're Michael's weapon, or rather, his receptical."

Dean was a vessel. And not just any vessel, Michael's. Which was probably some great honour in some religion somewhere, but Dean did not care. The angels rode him enough without actually possessing him, he wasn't going to let them get any further. But the angels were done with his attitude, and they started to get nasty. Breaking Sam's leg, giving Dean cancer, flexing their power to show that if Dean wouldn't be a vessel, the consequences would be... unpleasant.

"How many humans die in the crossfire, huh?" Dean snapped. "A million? Five? Ten?"

"Probably more," Zachariah said indifferently. "If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them." Dean didn't want to lose his world, but he wasn't letting some damn angel inside of him either. And since Michael needed his permission to be his vessel, Dean figured he would find his own way to kill Lucifer. There had to be something. But when Zachariah took out Sam's lungs, it started to get harder to say no.

"Just kill us!"

"Kill you? I'm just getting started."

Dean didn't want to know what else he would do, how far he would go. And fortunately, he never found out. The room was suddenly saturated with light, and Dean saw one of Zach's henchmen fall to the ground, dead. Something had killed the angel! From what Dean knew, nothing could do that, except-

There stood the man in the trench coat, dodging a hit from the second henchman, and then destroying him. Dean's mind screamed, his heart beating painfully against his ribs. _Cas!_ How was he alive? There wasn't really time to ask questions – Sam and Dean were both dying on the floor. Cas ordered Zachariah to heal them and leave. Dean felt the pain in his stomach fade at the same time as Zachariah disappeared. He glanced over at Sam, who was getting to his feet, all in one piece again. Feeling reassured, he studied Cas carefully, taking in the angel who, other than looking very tired, seemed to be himself. Same ruffled hair, brilliant eyes, five-o'clock shadow, blue tie, slightly slumped shoulders. Same affect on Dean as ever when their eyes met and then hardly left each other as Cas warned them that Lucifer had found a vessel.

"Once he takes it, those hex bags won't be enough to protect you," Cas explained as he stepped closer and then, to Dean's surprise, reached up and placed a hand on his chest. Dean's heart thudded skittishly, and he saw his other hand go to Sam's chest. Then there was a burning pain, as if all his ribs had been bruised. _What the hell did you just do to me Cas?_ Apparently, he'd carved an Enochian sigil into their ribs, to hide them from all the angels, Lucifer included. Dean didn't really care. He was thinking about Cas's hand on his chest, the gentle pressure and warmth through his shirt as it hovered a second longer after the sigils had been placed. He was sure that one would haunt him for many nights to come.

"Hey Cas, were you really dead?" Dean snapped back into reality at Sam's words, his eyes carefully observing Cas's reaction. He saw his eyes darken slightly and they flicked towards the ground for a second before he answered.

"Yes."

There were a lot of things Dean wanted to say and ask. _I'm sorry. What happened? It's my fault. Where'd you go? Can you forgive me? What's the catch? _He decided on, "How're you back?" Cas stared at him, and then there was only air where he'd stood.

"Is it so hard for him to answer a damn question?" Sam muttered. "He could just say, 'Sorry, can't tell you'."

"He socially awkward," Dean sighed. "I don't think he's ever spent much time talking to people. Or angels. Really, he just follows orders." _Even now that he's carving his own path, old habits die hard._ Dean didn't even care, Cas was alive, that was the best news he'd had in a long time. _It would've been nice to know. But maybe he wanted me to feel bad._

That night at the motel, Dean slept better than he had all week, since the apocalypse had started. Even with the update that he was Michael's vessel, just knowing Cas was back made life more bearable. He dreamt about him, his touch burning on his chest, removing his jacket and slowly traveling to feel the rest of his skin, rough but careful. He imagined ripping off the trench coat, yanking Cas towards him by his tie and –

He woke up, sweating and disoriented, his hand in his boxers. _What the hell?_ This was going too far. Maybe he was happy Cas was alive, but he wasn't _that_ happy. _I need to get laid._ He fell back asleep warily, but the dream was gone.

When he got up the next morning and came out of the bathroom, Sam gave him an amused look, and Dean couldn't understand why at first.

"Sleep well?" Sam half-smirked. Dean remembered the dream, and felt embarassed. But Sam couldn't have known he'd been dreaming about Cas.

"I had a pretty messed up dream-"

"Hey, I don't need to hear about your kinky dreams," Sam cut in. "Maybe you should hit a club tonight or something. Or call up who you were dreaming about, maybe you can make your little fantasy real. Before, you know, the world ends and they die, or you die."

_We've both already died._ But Dean took Sam up on the offer to visit a strip club, and he did get with some girl, but something felt off, and at first he couldn't place it. But then he figured it out. The girl was beautiful, with long dark hair, light skin, blue eyes, and she was a bit more reserved than the other girls. She reminded him of Cas – her hair was the same almost-black colour, with a reddish tinge when the light hit it a very certain way, and her underwear was the same blue as Cas's tie, although her eyes weren't as bright as his. How did he even know what exact shade Cas's eyes were anyway? He didn't even know what colour Sam's eyes were! (Brown, he was pretty sure.) That wasn't even the worst thing – it was the fact that when he'd realized that, it only turned him on more. He couldn't understand what was happening with his head, but he just tried not to think about it, forget it ever happened.

They didn't hear from Cas for a couple days, until they were visiting Bobby at the hospital and Sam's phone rang. Apparently, he just wanted to know where they were, but why did he have to call to find out?

Sam gestured down the hall behind Dean, and he turned to look, seeing the angel walking towards them, looking oddly out of place. Dean remembered the dream, the girl, and felt his nerves twinge. He distracted himself, asking Cas about the cell phone, and Cas reminded him that no angels could track them now – which apparently included him. He was just imagining Cas on a cell, thinking of how ironic it was, when Bobby interrupted, telling Cas to heal him. Cas peeled his eyes off Dean, both of them reminded that there were other people there – Sam being a foot away, as Dean had magically forgotten.

"I can't," Cas told Bobby apologetically, sliding through the doorway and brushing past Dean. Unlike Sam, who stepped back slightly to let Cas through, Dean leaned forward and then instinctively followed him into the room. "I'm cut off from Heaven, much of Heaven's power. Certain things I can do, certain things I can't."

Bobby told Cas off angrily. Dean was sure he'd be pissed too if he was confined to a wheelchair. Cas turned back to them – well, really just Dean, which suited him fine – and changed the subject to what he'd really come for.

"Your plan, to kill Lucifer-"

"Yeah, you wanna help?" They could use Cas, even if he didn't have all his power anymore. An extra pair of hands, even with limited powers, was better than nothing.

"_No_, it's foolish," Cas reproached. "It can't be done."

"Thanks for the support," Dean uttered sarcastically.

"But I believe I have the solution," Cas continued as if uninterrupted. "There is someone besides Michael strong enough to take on Lucifer. Strong enough to take on the apocalypse."

"Who's that?" Sam asked, and Dean reluctantly watched as Cas's eyes left him to look at Sam.

"The one who resurrected me and put you on that airplane. The one who started it all." Cas's eyes returned to Dean. "God. I'm gonna find God."

_Oh Cas, you innocent, naive bastard. You still believe in him after everything that's happened to you? Well, as admirable as your loyalty is... _God was out of the picture. Maybe he was real, but he was gone. He wasn't helping anyone. For all Dean knew, he'd given up on the humans. But he humoured Cas. "God?"

"Yes."

"_God?_"

"Yes! He isn't in Heaven, he has to be somewhere." _Well, God has the whole damn universe he can explore, why would he be here?_ But Dean played along, because he found it adorable to see Cas so childlike, truly believing his father was somewhere waiting to be found by him, that he actually cared about him. He didn't want to burst Cas's bubble just yet.

"Try New Mexico," Dean joked. "I hear he's on a tortilla."

He forgot Cas didn't have a sense of humour. He didn't know what he expected – that, what, he'd been resurrected so now he would understand all these human references? He saw Cas considering the idea, and then shaking his head, eyes narrowed. "No, he isn't on any flatbread."

Dean felt the urge to laugh and roll his eyes at the same time. _Cas, you son of a bitch. _Dean knew what it was like, to hold on to every hope for your dad, but he also knew that didn't turn out well. And he wasn't going to let Cas go down the same road he had. He knew God was gone, and Cas wasn't going to find him. He didn't want him wasting his time. "Look, even if there is a God, he is either dead – and that's the generous theory-"

"He _is _out there," Cas said firmly. And Dean understood. God was all Cas had left to hope for. He'd lost everything else – his family, his home, his life – and Dean knew he was a poor substitute for any of it. But it didn't matter, none of it mattered now. Saving the world might be Cas's only chance for redemption, his only chance to have a life again. But God wasn't in the story anymore.

"Or," Dean continued. "He's up and kicking, and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us."

But Cas wasn't going to give up. He was just as stubborn as Dean. "This is not a theological issue, it's strategic. With God's help, we _can_ win."

Dean was done playing games. "It's a pipe dream, Cas."

"I killed two angels this week," Cas hissed in Dean's face. Dean was positive Cas knew that the closer he got, the more control he had over him. He could already feel his resolve weakening. "My _brothers_. I'm hunted, I've rebelled, and I did it – _all of it_ – for you." That was low – he was blaming him, how could he? – but it was true. It was Dean's fault that Cas had lost everything. He felt the guilt building up as Cas continued to chew him out, reminding him that he had done it all for nothing. It was just another thing he hated himself for. And he just wanted to fix it.

"

Cas was still getting used to having the freedom to _feel_. But something about Dean brought out his emotions. From day one he'd known Dean was different, but he hadn't anticipated him having such a strong effect on him. He certainly hadn't thought he would rebel for him, fall for him. And now he was practically living for him. But Dean made him feel a lot of things that he couldn't hope to understand, not yet anyways. He just knew that it was very confusing to be around him, and he had to concentrate a lot harder on the task at hand. It was very frustrating.

So when Dean began insulting his father, and Cas was attacked by a flurry of emotions, he lashed out, spewing a lot of feelings into words. He tried to explain how he'd given up everything and now all his hope rested in this new world, mostly with Dean, but now they had started the apocalypse, and soon Cas would have no world to be in. How he had done everything, proved his loyalty to Dean, and, although they had tried, it didn't make a difference. So now he was trying to find God, because his father could help. His father could work things out. And it angered him when Dean couldn't put his faith in all there was left, couldn't understand why Cas was. Even though Dean had been the same way with his own father.

Finally, Bobby cut in, and Cas stopped his rant, feeling somewhat guilty. He could tell he'd gone a bit far. He kept his eyes on Dean a moment longer – seeing the crushed look in his eyes – before acknowedging Bobby and changing the subject to what he'd come for – Dean's amulet.

"What, this?" Dean asked, pointing at the necklace.

"May I borrow it?" Cas asked lightly, feeling the tension between them now.

"No."

"Dean, give it to me." He stared desperately into Dean's eyes. _This is the only way I can find my father. Please, you of all people should understand what I'm going through._ He was starting to get better at non-verbal communication with Dean, because he folded.

"Alright, I guess," he sighed, taking off the necklace and holding it out to him. "Don't lose it." He brushed his thumb over it, staring at it for a moment, before handing it over. _Don't worry Dean, I will take care of it. It means as much to me as it does to you. You can trust me._

"I'll be in touch." Dean just rolled his eyes, and Cas left.

"

_Well, that didn't go as well as I'd hoped._ He hadn't wanted to piss off Cas, he just wanted to protect him from the inevitable bullshit he'd have to go through. But Dean supposed he had to make his own mistakes, just as he himself had done. He just wished Cas would have let him explain. He wanted to believe that Cas would find his dad with the necklace, and he would save the world, but it just wasn't going to happen.

_When you figure out you're wasting your time, Cas, don't be too hard on yourself. I know how it feels, and I'll still be here for you. I might not be much, but I'm the one thing you can be sure you've still got._

* * *

**I feel like a lot happened in this chapter, but it was pretty short. There was pre-Dean!Cas, post-Cas-angst!Dean, them reunited, dad-parallels feels. Reviews are always motivating and motivation writes chapters. Thanks to everyone who's reading, following, favouriting - you're all great and I love you, but feedback is also great :)**


	8. Personal Space

_**05x02-3 ("Good God, Y'all!", "Free to Be You and Me")**_

With the beginning of the apocalypse came the Four Horsemen, some of the worst demons Hell could conjure. They could hardly be killed. And they were the cause of all problems. Sam and Dean were introduced to their first Horseman – War – and barely managed to fight him off. They didn't kill him, but they cut off his finger and took his ring, which was the source of his power. After this fight, Sam told Dean he didn't want to hunt anymore, that he didn't feel safe, didn't trust himself around demons and demon blood. It surprised Dean, but he let Sam go, knowing it was what Sam wanted, that he'd never wanted this life. Even though he could use Sam now, because this was the end of the world and he was struggling enough as it was, he just let Sam walk out of his life.

It was hard on Dean, the loneliness, the empty passenger seat, the lack of soft typing in the background when he would be falling asleep. No one holding him back, but no one holding him up either. A week, two, three passed and he got no word from Sam, but they had agreed to go their seperate ways, and Dean continued hunting on his own. It wasn't easy, with no one watching his back, but he also had no one else to look out for, which was a bit of a relief. But nightmares kicked in, and his alcohol intake increased. He grew more paranoid and uneasy, cold and irritated.

A couple nights after Sam had gone, Cas visited Dean in a dream. Well, Dean wasn't very sure whether it had actually been Cas, or if he'd just been dreaming about him – it wouldn't be the first time. The angel was inches from Dean, and Dean was uncomfortable, taking an annoyed step back. He just didn't like not having control, feeling like Cas was toying around in his head. He had told Cas that he needed his own personal space, that maybe angels didn't care about these things, but humans had comfort zones and they should be respected, but apparently the angel had forgotten.

Cas didn't seem to really want anything specific in the dream, he was just checking on Dean. Neither had found a way to stop Lucifer yet. When Dean awoke, he thought about working with Cas to try and figure something out, but opted out. Cas was likely more interested in just searching for his father, and wouldn't want to help Dean anyway. He didn't think Cas liked him that much. _I'm probably only of any value because he thinks I can stop the apocalypse._ The only times he really saw Cas was when Cas needed something from him, or was trying to help him stop Lucifer somehow. _But what do you expect? He's an angel, you're a human – meaning, worthless. The only reason you're of any importance is because you can help him get back to Heaven or whatever._

One night, however, Dean was cleaning up after a fight earlier, when he saw movement in the mirror. He glanced up to see a figure directly behind him, and panicked, before identifying the trench coat. He exhaled edgily.

"Don't do that!" he snapped, glaring at Cas in the mirror.

Cas frowned, clearly confused by Dean's reaction to him. "Hello Dean," he muttered, and Dean turned to him, finding the angel much closer than he enjoyed. He glanced down at his lips, which were slightly parted and fully kissable – _see, this is what I mean! I don't need you screwing up my thoughts damn it!_ Afraid Cas would read his mind, he didn't meet his eyes.

"Cas, we've talked about this," Dean sighed. "Personal space." Dean held his breath and waited until Cas stepped back, then let it out. Then he asked about how Cas had found him, rubbing his ribs where Cas had carved the sigils to hide him from angels. Cas, distracted and searching for something around the small motel room, vaguely explained that Bobby had told him where he was. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched Cas, amused. But then he asked about Sam. Where was he?

Dean had gotten through most of the day without thinking about him, until just an hour ago, when he'd killed a vampire, brutally. Then he'd thought of how Sam wouldn't have been so horrible to it, how he'd always been one for saving people, even if it meant destroying his own soul. And here Dean was, ruthlessly murdering. _It was a vampire, a monster. It was going to kill more people if you hadn't killed it. _But was it necessary to kill it so violently? Or was Dean taking out his anger at the world on every lower class evil creature? And, though he hated to admit it, he almost felt satisfied doing it.

But, now that Cas had brought up him again, Dean was thinking about how Sam could always keep him calm, sane. Even if things were horrible, he could always make it a bit better, lighten the load. _But Sam's gone now, and it's better this way. Easier, happier. He didn't want to keep doing this, and why would he? He's better out of this life, wherever he is._

Dean brought his mind back to the room, and changed the subject. "So, have you found God yet?" he asked astringently. "More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back please?" The necklace Sam had given him years ago. The only thing he had to connect them these days.

"No, I haven't found him," Cas answered, and Dean knew that he also meant, no he couldn't have the necklace back yet either. How hard could it be? An angel could go anywhere right? It couldn't take that long for him to search the world. But then, maybe it was harder for Cas because he was fallen, and didn't have all his power anymore. _And whose fault is that, Dean?_ "I need your help."

Cas was just stupid enough to come back to him, time and time again. He didn't seem to be learning, that Dean was only dragging him down – literally – with his human weaknesses, and he was really of no use to the ex-angel. But Cas wanted Dean to help him find someone. The archangel who had killed him – Raphael.

_About that Cas. Do you really think it's a good idea to go after an angel who killed you? Rub it in his face that, oh, I'm back, I'm God's favourite, and now I want you to tell me everything because God is rooting for me! That's not how it works. And what can I do anyway? _Even though Cas assured him that the angel wouldn't touch him, Michael's vessel. No angel would dare hurt him. _But they can still hurt you._

"I need _your_ help, because _you_ are the only one who will help me."

The guilt card wasn't exactly a fair play, but it was working. Cas was alone now, with no angel friends and no human ones, except Dean. Dean was the only string still attached to him, and really, Cas was one of the few people Dean had too. The connection they had sometimes felt stronger than the ones he had with any of his other friends, and maybe even stronger than his and Sam's occasionally. Although there were fights, disagreements on some things – which was mostly the angels' doing – for the most part Cas seemed to almost care about him, and Dean felt the same way. _Don't read too much into it, I'm sure he isn't actually bothered with you, you're just his ticket home._ Dean didn't really know what he believed, if Cas was just using him or not. But it didn't matter. Cas had his gaze, blue eyes softened, filled with longing and cautious hope. Because Dean was the only thing Cas was sure of. Even when he questioned God, he knew he had Dean, and without him, he'd be beyond lost.

"Please," Cas breathed, biting his lip very gently. Dean's mouth felt dry, and he licked his own lips, trying to hold his head together.

"Alright, fine," he muttered roughly. _But this sexy angel trick is gonna get old soon, just so you know._ Cas gave him that diminutive smile that he was starting to be partial to. But then he tried to press his fingers to Dean's forehead, to take him on the angel-ride through space, and Dean's thoughts cleared. He stepped back. _No way. You are not touching me again. And I am not travelling on your magic carpet._ Cas pulled his hand back, eyes widening anxiously.

"Last time you zapped me, I didn't poop for a week!" Dean told him. It was true. Cas wouldn't understand, being an angel and all, not having those human problems, but it freaked Dean out. He was somewhat fond of his human habits. They reminded him that he _was_ still human, not just a monster or an angel puppet. Cas' brow knit together, and Dean could see him thinking about it, probably wondering why that was a bad thing. "We're driving."

Cas didn't argue, which relieved Dean. He just stood there and waited while Dean finished packing – he had been planning on heading out in the morning to search for another job, but since Cas had brought one to him, he figured he would leave now. As if Cas would give him a choice. He was almost done when he noticed one of his knives on the bedside table, and went to retrieve it. Cas was blocking the way, standing between the bed and wall, waiting for him. Dean moved towards him, stopping in front of him and pausing, assuming he would move. He didn't.

"Cas," Dean hinted, hoping he would get the message. He still didn't move.

"Yes?"

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed Cas' shoulders, pushing the angel back against the wall and pressing past him to grab the knife. He tossed it into his bag and then slid past Cas again. He clenched his teeth together to hold back a groan as he took in what had just happened. His mind played with the memory, imagining it going a different way. If, when he'd gotten Cas against the wall, his warm body would radiate against Dean's, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, those blue eyes so adorably clueless as Dean's hand slipped around the tie and pulled him ever closer, his other hand against the wall to keep him balanced as he leaned in and swept his lips across the soft, full ones of the angel. Seeing his eyes brighten with confusion and then close as the kiss took over his senses, sending shivers pulsing through his nerves, and after a moment, Dean feeling pressure as the kiss was returned, hands sliding to his hips and pulling him roughly towards the angel, his mouth parting with a gasp, hands moving to the trench coat. Slipping Cas out of it, letting go of him and the coat falling to the ground, his hands shifting to the back of Dean's neck, pushing his body against him so he falls backwards onto the bed. Dean rolls over without breaking the kiss, grazing Cas' lower lip with his teeth, causing him to let out a soft moan. He would pull away just to tear off his jacket, Cas' hands travelling to his hips again, toying with the edge of Dean's shirt before slipping under it and sliding it up, fingers brushing against his bare skin and urging Dean back to his mouth...

"Dean?"

Dean shook his head and saw Cas staring at him curiously. He felt himself blush as he realized what he'd been thinking. Having sex with Cas, the angel standing in front of him, oblivious – hopefully – to his less-than-innocent thoughts. _I must be tired. I would go to bed, but Cas would probably try and zap me while I slept._

"Are you alright?" Cas asked.

"Fine," Dean lied. "I was just... zoned out I guess. I'm fine, let's go."

He sighed, trying to leave the thoughts behind as he headed out the door. Cas followed along quietly and waited as Dean packed the car and then got in the driver's seat. The angel slid in beside him, looking odd; Dean was used to seeing Sam, who was much bigger, and it was just funny to see the man in the trench coat sitting awkwardly in a car. Dean stuck the key in the ignition and the engine revved, and, to his great amusement, Cas flinched the smallest amount when the radio started playing.

It was quiet, other than the low music in the background. Dean didn't know what to say to the angel – "how's your life since you got kicked out of your home and now you're in hiding from all-powerful angels?" probably wouldn't go over well, but there wasn't much else to say. There were little things that Dean appreciated though – like how Cas didn't seem to care if he sang terribly, wouldn't change the station when Motley Crue came on, and he didn't say a word about Sam's absence (well, he didn't say a word, period). Maybe he just didn't care, but Dean was sure he wanted to know. He was just too polite to ask.

"You've gotta be wondering what happened between me and Sam," Dean prodded.

Cas glanced at him, searching his face questioningly. "It's not my business. That is between you and him. If you wish to tell me, I will listen, but I won't ask you about it if you don't want to talk about it."

"'Cause you don't care either way, right?" Why would he? He had bigger problems.

"I was brought up to following orders, not ask questions," Cas explained. "I don't worry about things if they're not my problem. Without anyone telling me what to do now, I suppose I'm free to choose what I care about and what I don't. You – you are important, I know. If you wish to confide in me, I can listen, although I doubt I can help you."

"I'm not asking you to be a therapist, Cas," Dean retorted, but he was actually amazed. Cas was so respectful and caring without going overboard – he wasn't even trying – and Dean was hardly used to that luxury. Cas would probably let him go on about every problem he'd ever had since his mom died, and he would listen. He wouldn't tune him out or stop giving a crap. He would listen, and he would remember. He was one of those kind of people, who could take in every word without saying one. "You're something else, Cas, you know that?"

Cas frowned. "Well... I'm an angel, or I was." Dean laughed. "I don't see how that's funny. It's your fault."

"I'm not laughing at that," Dean told him. "And I know it is. I-" He wanted to say he was sorry, but the words got stuck. Because he knew if he said that, he would say much more, he would tell him everything and then he would regret it. "I was laughing at how clueless you are. Don't worry, if you stick around, you'll catch on."

It was very, _very_ early in the morning when they reached Maine, where Raphael was rumoured to be. Dean, exhausted, pulled off to the side of the road, and turned off the engine.

"What are you doing?" Cas wondered, confused.

"Cas, you will regret it if I don't get some sleep," Dean assured him. "And at this time of day, we can't do much. I'll get up in a few hours. You should probably sleep too."

"I don't need sleep," Cas reminded him.

"Right, well, go find something to do then, I don't care. Just let me sleep," Dean said. "Otherwise I won't be coherent. Driving that long breaks down your brain. Just, wake me up in four hours or something, okay?"

"

Cas didn't know what to do while Dean slept, so he just sat in the Impala and watched the clock. Dean had said four hours. It had been one hour, twelve minutes, and thirty-four seconds since he'd fallen asleep, when he started stirring. Well, his hand twitched, wincing at some invisible pain. Cas watched as his face scrunched, looking as though he was suffering. He couldn't understand what was happening. Then he realized Dean must be dreaming about something that was causing him pain. Carefully, so not to wake him, he placed a finger to Dean's temple, pushing the nightmare out of his head. He watched Dean's face become peaceful, and felt his energy drain slightly. He spent the next two hours and forty-seven minutes watching Dean, making sure nothing else tortured him while he slept.

"

When Dean was dragged into the blackness of unconsciousness, he surfaced into a nightmare. He was back in Hell, torturing souls, feeling the monster taking over him. He cut into soul after soul, watched as the people screamed in agony – and he felt nothing. He was moving on to the next soul when he recognized it – Castiel. Horrified, he tried to stop, but he kept advancing, no longer in control. He couldn't drop his weapon, could only watch in terror as he raised his arm at the wide-eyed, shackled, pleading angel. The blade cut into him, and he gasped, unable to move. Dean ripped him apart, his guts falling out, tenacity failing. He heard Cas' cries and tried to say he was sorry, but it came out as a laugh. He was fighting himself, trying to stop –

And then it was over. It was all dark. He didn't dream of anything else, just floated peacefully, thoughtlessly. He was relaxed, calm – nothing could touch him on this safe little cloud. He just rested. Then, after an eternity, he felt someone shaking his shoulder, and jolted awake. The someone was Cas, who hadn't moved for exactly four hours. Dean had a feeling he wouldn't get used to how strange Cas was any time soon.

He grabbed his bag out of the trunk and pulled out his suit, as Cas had said they needed to visit the police station – although he didn't specify why. Dean wasn't quite awake enough yet to ask questions. He changed on the side of the road – not like there was any traffic, and he was pretty sure Cas didn't care if took off his clothes; angels were probably asexual anyways (Dean didn't allow himself think that that wouldn't apply to fallen angels) – and got back in the car, heading into the town. Cas directed him to the station and then Dean asked why they were there.

"A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel," Cas said plainly.

"And he still has eyes?" Dean asked, remembering what had happened to Pamela when she'd seen Cas. Cas stared at him severely. "Alright. What's the plan?"

Cas shrugged, puzzled by what Dean could mean. Apparently, their plan was obvious, but Dean had no idea what it was supposed to be. "We'll tell the officer he witnessed an angel of the Lord, and the officer will tell us where the angel is." The way he said it, so seriously, made Dean search his eyes for any signs of humour. But he wasn't joking. _Some plan, Cas. They'd have you in a crazy bin without me._

"You're serious?" Dean asked, holding back a laugh while pitying the pathetic creature. He shook his head to show his disapproval.

"Why not?" Cas wondered, looking like a child being denied candy. _What could possibly be wrong with your wildly flawed plan? Oh wait, everything._ But it was adorable, how little Cas knew about humans, for someone who'd been watching them for so long.

"Because," Dean told him, pulling out the fake ID Cas had somehow gotten. Dean had brought it up briefly in the car ride, telling him he would need it, and Cas disappeared from the Impala, only to return a minute later, handing over the badge. It had been very impressive. He took it now, and placed it inside the trench coat's inner pocket. He began carefully grooming Cas over, buttoning his shirt, tightening his tie, just making him presentable. But feeling the material, brushing over Cas' clothes so lightly made his fingertips tingle nervously. He focused on his hands, and distracted Cas by talking. "We're humans, and when humans want something, really, really bad, we lie."

"Why?"

Dean glanced him over once, and decided he was acceptable. "Because, that's how you become president." He saved the image of Cas' confused face as he took his leave, heading into the police building and asking the secretary where he could find the deputy. She pointed them in the direction and they headed upstairs. Dean caught sight of him and introduced himself, flashing his badge. Then he introduced Cas, who just stood there, looking serious. _Show your damn badge._ Cas caught on and held out the badge – upside down. Dean resisted the urge to laugh and punch him, taking the badge and flipping it. Cas didn't even change expression.

To make it worse, Cas started talking about angels and demons while Dean was discussing what had happened with the deputy. As soon as they found out where their vessel was, they headed out, and when they reached the Impala, Dean started laughing. Catching a glimpse of Cas' puzzled face only made him laugh harder.

"You're an idiot, Cas," Dean managed to get out. Cas waited for him to explain, but he didn't say anything else. Cas gave him an address, and then he disappeared. _Did I offend him? _That was possible. He really needed to train the poor bastard.

Dean stopped for lunch on his own, since Cas didn't have to eat, then headed out to the address he'd been given – an empty house which they could spend the night in – waiting for Cas for an hour impatiently. Then he was in the room, standing still as a soldier, eyes wandering around the old place. The only thing different about him was the jug in his hand. It was some sort of oil from Jerusalem that could apparently help them trap Raphael. Cas seemed awfully sure of the plan, but, knowing him and his idea of foolproof, they seemed to have no hope in hell of getting through this. He claimed that Dean could survive, but then, very certainly assured him that he would be a dead man tomorrow.

_That's not gonna happen. I won't let it._ But he knew he wouldn't be able to make Cas believe otherwise, so he called his bluff, and asked him what he planned on doing on his last night on Earth. Going on, partying, sleeping with a girl or several...

"I just thought I'd sit here quietly."

Dean almost laughed, but then he remembered – this was Cas, he wasn't joking. He actually was just going to sit the night out. And when Dean asked if he wanted to get with a woman, Cas looked... uncomfortable. Sort of as if he'd hoped the topic would never arise. _Wait... he doesn't mean... No, he has to have._

"You _have_ been with a woman before, right? Or at least an angel?"

"I've never had occasion," Cas mumbled, flushing. _You bastard. You're a virgin? Damn._ That wasn't much of a life, and now it was just gonna end for him? Hardly acceptable. Dean promised he wasn't letting him die without getting laid once. He _had_ to get with a girl. The thought of it sparked something in Dean, but he couldn't place it – something clawing in his insides as he imagined Cas with someone else. It didn't matter. He headed out to the Impala, pausing at the passenger door when something crossed his mind. He waited for Cas to reach the car too.

"You do like girls, right?" Dean asked carefully. Cas shrugged. "I mean, you're not, you know... into guys or anything?"

"As angels, we don't really have sexual preferences," Cas admitted. "We don't have sexual _interest._ Nowadays, I don't... I don't _understand_ the appeal."

"So you're asexual? You just don't like anyone?" For whatever reason, that punched a hole in his hopes. He didn't even know what he was hoping for._ You think he's gonna turn around and jump your bones? Please, you're the last person he would ever want._

"Yes," Cas said. "Well... I like you, and Sam is okay too."

"Yeah but you don't wanna sleep with us," Dean said tentatively.

"I don't sleep."

_I guess I set myself up for that one._ "That's not what I mean."

"Well what do you mean?" Cas said, sounding irritated. "Because I don't understand all your human references-"

"You don't want to have sex with me."

Dean hadn't meant to say it like that – he hadn't meant to say it at all. And now it was just terribly awkward. But, he hoped that maybe Cas wouldn't catch on, he would be his clueless little self. _You pretty much just told him you want to get him in bed and rock his brains out. Genius. _But Cas didn't understand subtext. He was safe. Right?

Wrong. "I... don't know."

"Excuse me?" That was so far from a solid answer, and it sounded like Cas was pretty unsure. Like maybe he would sleep with him.

"I – I might, if I weren't going to die tomorrow," he admitted.

_Holy fuck._ Dean felt his stomach twist, filling with fireworks. He grabbed Cas roughly by his shoulders, eyes burning into his. "Are you serious? You're not screwing with me? 'Cause you do that a lot."

Cas' eyes were wide as he stared uneasily. "I – do what alot?"

"Mess around with my head!" Dean exclaimed. "I always get really ... I can never think right around you, because of whatever it is you do. Are you doing it now?"

"I don't do anything to you..."

That wasn't possible. What else could explain how he acted, thought, felt around Cas? _Ever consider the fact that you _like_ him?_ He had, but he refused to think about it. He didn't like Cas, not in that way. Cas was a guy, and he liked girls. And he had the excuse that Cas did things to him because of his angel crap or whatever, but apparently that wasn't it. There was no way though... _How else do you explain how often you think about sleeping with him? And now, you can. You've got the chance – this is the only one you'll get if he dies tomorrow – so you might as well take it._

"Are you doing it now?" Dean repeated.

"No."

_Good._ He jerked Cas into him, kissing him heartily, pressing him into the side of the Impala. It was so much better to actually kiss him than just dream about it. But, though his lips were soft, he was rigid, his hands curled into fists at his side, muscles tensed. Dean didn't want to, but he pulled back and stared into Cas' eyes, expecting them to be icy, but they were melted, distant and longing. But Dean saw them slowly come back, hardening as he became aware of everything. Then he moved, raising a hand, and Dean didn't catch on until he was too late.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas said sorrowfully. "It'd be better if it didn't end this way."

Dean saw his fingers reaching for his forehead, and then they were pressing up against his temple.

"

"Come on, Cas, quit just standing around."

Cas stared at Dean, wondering if it had worked – if he'd forgotten. "Where are we going?"

"To get you with a girl," Dean told him, as if it was completely obvious. So he _had_ forgotten. Cas had taken Dean's memories of liking him, so it wouldn't be so hard for him when he died tomorrow. He slid into the Impala and let Dean take him wherever it was he was planning on going – which turned out to be, in his mind, a whore house. It was terrifying. Dean set him up with one of the girls, and he somehow managed to offend her. But she had been all over him, and he didn't like it – how she touched him, started pulling at his clothes – it felt wrong. She kissed him, and it was off – he didn't even know her, and after Dean had just kissed him half an hour before, it couldn't compare. Dean's lips had been warm and rough and given him a rush, where this girl's lips were glossy and sticky and it was just weird. He knew it wasn't her fault – she'd fallen down this road after a hard life – and he told her so, and that he wasn't really interested, but she got all bent out of shape.

_Humans._

"

Dean took Cas to a "den of iniquity" – oh, Cas – and could barely keep himself together at the pure horror in Cas' face. He had never seen him so scared and out of place. But Dean knew he would get into it – he was mostly human now, it was in his new nature – and when a girl came up to their table, he let her go away with the dismayed angel, hoping he wouldn't screw things up too bad. Then Dean went off to chat up another girl, who had been eyeing him.

"Who's your friend?" she asked, smirking. "He have a phobia of women or something?"

Dean grinned. "He came from a strict home, just recently escaped. I figured I would show him some of the good things in life." He didn't mention how Cas might die tomorrow. "We've got a tough day tomorrow, just wanted to relieve some stress."

"Well, I would love to take some of that stress away for you..."

He was about to take her up on that offer, when they heard a girl scream. He knew it was the girl Cas was with – what had he done, revealed he was an angel? Or was he just _really_ good? No, that scream was too angry to be from pleasure, and they hadn't been gone long enough anyway. Hurrying in their direction, Dean saw the girl stormed past, screaming profanities.

He spotted Cas, clothes dishevelled, looking too innocent. "What the hell did you do?"

"I don't know," Cas said, throwing his hands in the air. "I just looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault her father ran off because he hated his job at the post office." He shook his head as if he couldn't believe the girl, and Dean resisted the urge to face palm. _Someone get this man a medal!_ That had to be the best first-time story he'd ever heard, and Cas actually thought he'd done nothing wrong, which just made it better. His face cracked into a grin, even as two men appeared in the doorway and they had to get the hell out. Dean let out a cackle, hurrying Cas along out of the building. As soon as they were out, Dean doubled over, wheezing a silent laugh. Cas watched him, confused, but giving half a smile, amused at Dean's enjoyment of it all.

"What's so funny?" Cas wondered, and Dean straightened up, almost losing it again as he caught Cas' puzzled face. He threw his arm over Cas' shoulder, still chuckling.

"Nothing," Dean sighed humorously. _You tried, Cas._ He gave him a grin, which Cas returned, seeming to find Dean's delight more pleasing than the actual situation. Even as Dean let him go and slipped around to the driver's side of the Impala, Cas' smile didn't fade.

"

They succeeded in summoning Raphael, and trapping him in a ring of holy fire. Raphael seemed extremely angry, and Cas didn't feel very safe. Raphael threatened to take Dean to Michael, but Dean didn't seem to be taking him very seriously, brushing off everything he said like it was a joke. He didn't seem to realize that each time he did this, it was digging the hole deeper for Cas. If Raphael went after him later, Cas would be in a lot of trouble for it. What was worse than that, was when Raphael told them God was dead.

_That's not possible. He can't die. He might not be in Heaven, but that doesn't mean he's dead. _Hadn't he been the one who raised him? But Raphael suggested that it might have been Lucifer who had brought Cas back, needing rebellious angels on his side. _No. Just because I rebelled doesn't mean I'm on Lucifer's side. The angels know nothing! They're more on Lucifer's side than I am, because they are against God! _Cas' anger broiled, flames flitting through his nerves, and he left Raphael in the holy fire, despite the departing threat that if he did, Raphael would kill him later. It didn't matter, he had God on his side. He knew his father was out there somewhere. He had to be...

It wasn't the first time Cas had felt doubtful, that maybe He _was_ gone. And the archangels, they were the highest angels, the only ones who had ever really seen God, and they knew these things about Him. So, as he and Dean drove off in the Impala, Cas started to wonder. What if God was truly dead? What good would it do for Raphael to lie to them about it?

It was Dean who reassured him. Dean, who barely believed in God himself, who didn't seem to care whether Cas wasted his time searching for Him or not, told him to keep trying. "There were times when my father was missing, and all logic pointed to him being dead. But I knew in my heart that he was out there. I don't care what some ninja turtle says, Cas, what do _you_ believe?"

What did he believe? He kept fighting, no matter what, and that meant something. Because you didn't do everything he'd done in the name of something for nothing. "I believe he's out there."

"Good, then go find him."

He wanted to. He didn't want to just sit around wasting time, while he was being hunted by Heaven and the world was collapsing around him. But he didn't want to leave Dean alone, when he already had the weight of the world – literally – on his shoulders, and he barely seemed to be hanging on at times. But Dean assured him he was fine. "Even without your brother?" Cas wondered.

"_Especially_ without my brother," Dean answered without hesitation. Because taking care of Sam, watching his back while they tried to hunt, was more than he needed. "And I've had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I ever had with Sam in years – and you're not that much fun." Dean shot him a smirk to suggest that he was joking, but Cas figured he _was_ only bringing him down, and he was just being nice about it. Cas wasn't updated on his human knowledge, he didn't know how to "have fun", he was just another let down to Dean. And, realizing that, he decided it would be better _not_ to stay with him, even if he liked being with him – Dean was better without him, and he cared a lot more about Dean than himself.

It was hard, but that was everything about Cas' life lately – making decisions he didn't want to have to make, doing things that would benefit others even if they threw him under the bus. He was giving his all, but he was doing it for God, for the world, for Dean, and in the end, he just prayed it would all pay off, that it wouldn't all be a waste.

If not, he hoped God would show mercy and he could still be with Dean in the next world.

"

**That was really long, I know. I felt bad for not having written in a week (I'm sorry! I've had school and I was working on the plot of another fic. Also, I was writing later chapters for this fic). Anyways, I'll try to write another chapter this weekend, update no later than Tuesday.**


	9. Don't Ever Change

_**05x04 ("The End")**_

Dean was exhausted. He'd been driving all day – literally – trying to push himself as far west as he could go to get to a case he'd dug up in Wyoming. But, sixteen hours down, he'd given up for the day in Kansas, packing it in at a motel for the night. He was just settling in when he cell phone went off – Cas was calling.

"Cas," Dean said, surprised to hear from the angel. It had been a week since he'd left with no warning, and Dean hadn't seen him since. "Uh, what's up?"

He could almost hear Cas looking up at the sky. "I have to keep this short. There's this voice – some woman, who keeps cutting in, and I don't know what she wants – but I might have found another way to kill Lucifer."

Dean perked up, but then grew wary. _This is Cas, don't forget, I wouldn't get too excited yet._ "Are we talking like, a way besides God or Michael?"

"Yes. There's a weapon, the demons have it – it can kill anything in creation."

"Wait, you mean – we're talking about the Colt, right?" The Colt, a gun that had been created in the nineteenth century, that had fallen into the hands of demons and was undoubtedly scrap metal now. "Why would the demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?"

"What?" Cas yelled as the sound of a truck passing on the other end filled Dean's ear. The irony of it all hit him then – talking to Cas, an angel (well, a fallen one) on a cell phone. It wasn't so funny as it was guilting. With each passing day, Cas was growing to be more and more human, his angel juice seeping out of him, because he'd turned against Heaven – and as he'd told Dean, it was for him. And now he was reduced to talking on a cell phone.

"This _isn't_ funny, Dean," Cas said heatedly. "The voice says I'm almost out of minutes." Dean realized the "voice" was just Cas' cell phone - it was like giving a phone to an old person. But Cas sounded truly concerned, and that sent another pang through him. What would happen when Cas was fully human? He'd be hopeless in this world. _You sure know how to ruin everything for everyone, Dean._

"Okay, alright."_ Calm down. _He wasn't sure who he was talking to, himself or the angel, but maybe they both needed to simmer out a bit. _You're still here, you can help him if he does flat out on his mojo._ "Look, I'm telling you Cas, the mooks have melted down the gun by now."

"Well, I hear differently," Cas said, and Dean almost smiled at the conviction in his voice. He sounded just like he had when they'd first met. _Before you screwed him royally. Before he had to use a cell phone to reach you._ "And if you're still set on the insane task of killing the devil, this is how we do it."

"Okay," Dean repeated soothingly. _Stop pissing off the poor dude, Dean. Just hear him out. He would show you that respect._ "Where do we start?"

Cas asked where he was, and told him he'd be there immediately. But Dean rebuked the idea. _I'm beat, there's no way I'm doing anything tonight. _He reminded Cas that he was only human, not an invincible angel. He needed sleep – they could wait until the morning. As soon as Cas agreed, Dean hung up.

As tired as he was, and though it was nearly two in the morning, he found it difficult to fall asleep. He lay in bed for half an hour, pondering over Cas' idea. If, by some chance, the demons did have the Colt, how exactly were they going to get it? It could be anywhere, and what were a human and a burning-out angel going to do against Hell's army? Of course, they had to try, but was there really any hope? Cas seemed to think so. But Cas was – or had been – an angel, they could pretty much snap their fingers and have the world at their feet. Things were easy come, easy go for him, and now he was facing a new reality with the same, ineffective mindset. But he had some illogical faith in Dean, and he seemed to trust him – maybe because Dean gave him orders, and that was within his comfort zone, or because he was truly naive enough to believe Dean could stop Lucifer. Either way, Dean appreciated the gesture. He appreciated Cas.

Because Cas was loyal, without question, even when all Dean did was mock him, drag him from Heaven and convert him into his own soldier. With all the hell he'd gone through just to prove his faith in Dean – like a loving girlfriend, trying to prove that it could work out between them. Of course, Dean had never had a girlfriend for any long period of time – no girl was crazy enough, none would leave their happy home in their happy world to follow him as he took on Hell. He didn't blame them - why would anyone be stupid enough? Even his own brother ran when he got the chance, time and time again. He could search his whole life and never find anyone who would willingly give up their life to join his... Well, except... Cas had, he'd given up so much more than any human even _had_ to give up, hadn't he? He'd done more than Dean could ever have asked from him, just to show him that – what? He trusted Dean? He believed in him? Maybe, but there was something more Dean couldn't put his finger on... It was like having a word slip your mind, still knowing what it meant, but having it float just under the surface. He felt like there was something he'd forgotten, but he just couldn't place it.

He was giving himself a headache, and he just wanted to sleep. He finally dozed off, feeling the release as fatigue hauled him under. But a couple hours later, a loud buzzing chewed into his mind, and he awoke, seeing his phone vibrating on the bedside table. _Dammit Cas, you impatient bastard._ He answered groggily, but the voice on the other end didn't belong to the angel – it was Sam. _What the hell could he want at four in the morning?_

What he wanted was to inform Dean that he was Lucifer's true vessel, just as Dean was Michael's. And he wanted back in, he wanted to fight again. But Dean didn't agree.

"I can do this, I _can_," Sam was half-begging. "I'm gonna prove it to you." Dean wanted to believe him, he did. But it wouldn't work, it _never _worked with them. They were better off without each other, and Dean told him so. He didn't want to hear Sam breaking, because that only cut into him, and he hung up before Sam could say anymore.

He collapsed back onto the bed, feeling renewed waves of depression as his life continued to fall to crap. He'd told Sam out of his life; Bobby was broken and dying; Cas was waiting for him with all his idiotic blind faith. Everyone was trusting him, and one by one, he was bringing them all down. He fell back asleep, wishing it would all be over when he woke up.

Opening his eyes in the morning, he had to wonder if his wish came true.

The room he was in was completely changed – the walls black and mouldy, the bedding gone, the clock broken, curtains flowing in the breeze which came through the newly smashed window. It was as if Hell had waltzed through and redecorated. The scariest thing was the dead silence – and he wondered how literal that saying was. Had the world actually died? He went to the window, to look out at the street which just yesterday had been filled with people and cars, the pleasant downtown of Kansas City. What had taken the scene's place was ruin. Cars littered the street, looking as if they'd picked a fight with a Transformer; buildings charred and burnt down; dark clouds painted across the sky which hung over the seemingly empty town. _What the hell did I wake up to?_

The silence was the worst. So eerie, with every single step, every heartbeat, echoing so the whole world could hear him – if there was anyone left _to_ hear it. Being so alone, so exposed, with absolutely no knowledge of what was happening... Was this real? Or, more likely, was he sleeping? What did this nightmare have in store? A lot of wreckage, so far. Monsters lurking in the shadows, maybe. His ears strained for the sound of _anything_, anything as quiet as an ant coughing, but even the animals seemed to have disappeared.

Listening as closely as he was, nearly gave him a heart attack. There was very abruptly, the great sound of shattering glass, and Dean was sure his stomach dropped to his feet for a second. But nothing attacked him, he didn't even see anything. So he tracked the sound, and located a little girl. _Ah, finally! Someone who can tell me what the hell happened._ Except, the girl wasn't talking. Instead, she tried to attack him, and he was forced to knock her out. Then he heard footsteps approaching behind him, and turned – catching sight of the wall, where "Croatoan" was written in what looked like blood.

_Crap._ Of all the... He didn't even have time to get angry, because a swarm of infected people were heading towards him, and he needed to get the hell out of there. He ran and fortunately led the people into a group of soldiers, who took the infected down, giving Dean time to hide himself. He was shaking so heavily he couldn't stand anymore, just trying to figure out why this was happening. _It's just a dream, isn't it? Maybe... It has to be. There's no way the world could flip like this overnight._ He waited for the firing to stop, then spent an hour longer trying to compose himself. It was unlike him to be so distraught over something like this – he'd faced Croatoan before, killed people before, _been killed_ before. But maybe the abruptness of it all had thrown him off. He didn't care. As soon as he was settled enough, he took his leave, managing to find the edge of the city, and squeezing out of the gate. However, on that gate read a sign.

CROATOAN VIRUS HOT ZONE – NO ENTRY – BY ORDER OF ACTING REGIONAL COMMAND. AUGUST 1ST 2014 – KANSAS CITY

First of all. It wasn't August. Second, _it wasn't 2014, what the hell?! _It made Dean wonder whether he was dreaming, or if this was Heaven's doing. He quickly found out, with a visit from Zachariah. He almost punched him when he appeared in the car Dean'd hotwired, and when he recognized him, he had to remind himself that punching Zach would only hurt him. As their conversation went on, he was finding it harder to resist.

Zachariah had intentionally pushed him five years ahead, to see the "consequences" of his actions, aka, saying no to Michael. The way he put it, Dean says no, the world ends. But Zachariah wouldn't take him back. He was going to let Dean stick around for three days, just to really get a taste of how horrible things were going to get.

_Perfect. This is exactly what I love to do with my time. Thank you so damn much you freaking bastard._ Dean didn't know what the hell to do. He needed to be _updated_ on the past – future? – five years, so he guessed his best option was Bobby. Cell phones didn't work, so... driving, then. It took a few hours to get there, but he made it.

Only to find Bobby wasn't there. By the state of his wheelchair – full of bullet holes and splashed with blood, Bobby wasn't in this realm anymore. That was the first blow. Bobby, who was like a father to him, who kept his ass in line but never stopped loving him – he wasn't taking in oxygen anymore. It didn't really sink in at first, and Dean used that time to search Bobby's journal for answers. He found a picture, showing Bobby, a couple other hunters, and Cas – Cas! – standing beside a sign with the next address he would be hitting up. Then Dean was crippled by the fact that _Bobby won't be there. Bobby is dead._ It was his fault. All of it. Bobby was in a wheelchair back in their time because of Dean, and now he was dead, because Dean had said no to Michael, and when push came to shove, Bobby couldn't defend himself. How had he died? Heroically? _Please. He was stuck in a goddamn wheelchair._ So, pathetically. Dean sank to the ground, holding himself together, feeling pressure from the outside as well as inside him, threatening to shatter him. Who else was dead because of him? It seemed like the whole world.

But maybe Cas was alive. When Dean wasn't afraid that any movement would cause him to combust, he slowly picked up the journal and stared at the picture. Cas was so changed. Scruffy, with a lack of his regular attire – the trench coat was gone – and a gun in hand. It was the same face, but ... a different person._ What happened to you Cas?_ There was only one way to find out.

The camp Cas was at now wasn't far from Bobby's place, but it was well protected. Fenced, guards patrolling, Croatoan-proof. But Dean managed to get in and, catching sight of his beloved Impala, almost wanted to run away again. It was destroyed, worse than that. He approached it in disbelief – what had happened to it? How had he let this happen? _I would never..._ The Impala was his baby, he could never let it fall to pieces like this. Did that mean – was he dead in the future?

Before he could find the answer, he was knocked out cold.

"

He woke up handcuffed to a ladder, facing none other than himself. _The last time I met myself was in a dream, and the other me was a damn demon._ But, logic said this Dean was just future-Dean. Who had no idea who, or rather what, he was. Past-Dean explained how he'd been zapped to the future by Zachariah, and then found himself wondering, wouldn't future-Dean remember this happening? He didn't. It had come as a total surprise that in the past, he'd travelled to the future. So what, had Zachariah scrubbed his memory after he got back? Or was it something else... He couldn't really worry at the moment. He asked future-Dean about Sam, but, according to him, Sam was dead. And he didn't seem to care, which just made things worse. _Sam's dead?_ First Bobby and Croatoan, now Sam? How was this possible? Dean felt like he couldn't breathe, and it only got worse when future-Dean began packing up to leave. His future self was planning on leaving him locked down. He didn't trust himself.

With good reason. Dean pushed down the loss of Sam, trying to think clearly. After a few minutes of searching for some way to break himself out, Dean found his best option – a nail in the floor, which he spent at least twenty minutes painfully digging out. When he got it though, it was no time before he was free from his cuffs. He cautiously made his way out of the cabin he was in, and immediately ran into Chuck. _Chuck! You're alive!_ Chuck seemed surprised when Dean said hi to him – was future Dean really such a dick? – but then got down to business on a report of supplies. Dean had no clue what to tell him.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a mission?" Chuck asked suddenly.

"Yeah, and I will be," Dean lied. "Is Cas still here?"

Chuck smiled mysteriously, but nodded, and pointed him in the direction of Cas' cabin. _Thank God_, he thought, wondering if he really did have God to thank for that one. Cas was alive, and he was still here.

"So, should I call someone else for that mission then?" Chuck asked him, a grin pasted on his face. _What's up with him? I feel like there's some inside joke I'm not getting._ "Or I could just put it on hold for an hour or two. Probably two, right?" Why would Dean going to see Cas mean stopping a mission for two hours? Dean shook his head, lost.

"Uh, no, just... let them go without me," Dean said, hoping Chuck would be okay with that. His grin widened, taking over his whole face.

"Okay, well, have fun," Chuck said, biting his thumb to hold back the smile that threatened to break his face in two. "Don't... don't break anything."

_Break anything? Am I fighting with Cas in the future? But why would Chuck be so damn happy about that?_ Dean, sick of not understanding all the future references, headed off to Cas' cabin.

It looked like the other cabins, but, instead of a door, there were hanging beads, and from inside came exotic music. _What the..._ Maybe he had the wrong cabin. Maybe Zach had zapped him to the fifties. But no, he heard Cas' voice purring inside, and not sure what to expect, slipped through the beads.

He was not prepared.

Cas was sitting in a circle of women, candles burning all around the room, speaking hypnotically. He wore a baggy dress shirt that looked like it could fit Dean – was it his? – and he still had his scruffy face and tousled hair as he'd been in the picture at Bobby's house. At the sound of Dean's step, Cas looked up at him and gave a sincere smile.

"Ladies, I think I need to confer with our fearless leader for a minute," Cas told the girls, looking up at Dean and winking. _Wait... winking?! Did he wink at me?_ On top of that, was he giving up the opportunity to be with half a dozen women to "confer" with Dean – who was now, their fearless leader? As the girls left, Cas stood and stretched, ambling over to the bed.

"Cas, we gotta talk."

Cas turned, and then raised his eyebrows, taking Dean in. "Woah, strange."

"What?"

"You," Cas said heavily. "Are not you. Not now-you anyway. What year are you from?" Dean explained that he was from five years earlier, and Cas asked who'd done it to him. "Was it Zachariah?" Dean nodded, and Cas put his finger to his chin pensively. "Interesting..."

_Yes I'm sure this is all just fantastic for you._ "Why don't you strap on your angel wings and take me back to my page on the calendar?"

Cas, surprisingly, laughed. "I wish I could, just uh, strap on my wings, but uh – I'm sorry, no dice." Something was off about him. He was torn between laughing and crying, and he just seemed too... laid back.

"What, are you stoned?"

"Generally, yeah." Cas was smiling, but his eyes looked sad, empty. The same way Dean's own eyes were. Whatever had happened, Cas had taken a turn for the worse. He was depressed, a hippie, a slut... _No. I can't have lost him too. Not like this._ He couldn't deal with losing him, and still having to face him. Bobby and Sam were dead at least. But Cas, he still was facing the world, just barely hanging in there, living proof of how much of a piece of shit Dean was. Forcing Dean to actually face his actions, and what would come of them.

Dean asked what had happened to him, and Cas simply responded with, "Life." _No, I happened. It's my fault – I did this._ That had been his only thought since he'd got to the future – how he was to blame for everything. He'd ruined everything he'd ever lain eyes on.

"Dean, stop it," Cas cut in. "I know what you're thinking. Man, you haven't been like this in a while. You stopped letting it show – it's damn near impossible for me to get through to you these days. I know you still blame yourself, future-you I mean. You never forgave yourself for anything. But Dean," Cas stepped closer, and Dean felt his angel mojo creep into his brain, growing light-headed. It got worse when he felt the warmth of Cas' hand on his hip, and he was drawn into the angel. "You know I'm not really one to tell you – well, I guess you don't know, but... I'm not really one to take life advice from – but it's _not_ your fault." The angel was staring up at him sincerely, and being this close to him, he'd expect it to be awkward – but Cas was so comfortable, like this was normal for them, that Dean didn't want to pull away. "You've kept fighting, to this bitter end – and it's all gonna be over soon, one way or another. And I'm still here with you. It was never worth it, seeing it all fall apart, but I couldn't let you say yes to Michael – I was too selfish, didn't wanna lose you. I dragged myself along with you, and you are the only thing that's kept me alive this long – but we've got each other. We're happy. At least if we die, we'll finally be at peace."

There was no way Cas was serious. "Cas, think about what you're saying! Have you seen this earth lately?"

"It's a bit late to mourn, Dean," Cas murmured. "I'm past caring about anything, except you."

The way Cas said it – his voice was so full of admiration, of _love_. Dean didn't know why it took so long, but all the pieces fell together. The way Chuck had been acting when he asked about Cas, how Cas had winked at him and then _started making his way over to the bed_ when they were alone, Cas wearing his shirt, and now, Cas' touch burning into his skin, practically professing his undying love. Was he... _with_ the angel in the future?

"And how do I feel about all this?"

"You mean future-you?" Cas asked. "We're all we've got, Dean. The planet's forsaken, you're just trying to make it to the end – you stopped caring about who wins. As for me, not to buff my ego, but I think sometimes I'm all that keeps you going. Other times, I think I make you wanna give up. I mean, look at me – I'm useless! I don't even wanna live anymore. But you got what you've always wanted, right? You finally found someone who'll join you as you face Hell. You've got me."

It wasn't worth it. Even when Cas brushed his lips to his cheek and smiled warmly, Dean could see him suffering. Cas wasn't happy – he was broken. Dean had gotten what he'd wanted, sure, but he'd ruined it just like everything else. And it got worse – Cas told him he was human, and he hated it. _So it wasn't his angel mojo that was messing with my head._ _Maybe I'm just in love with him._ Maybe it'd always been that way, and he just hadn't realized. Apparently, he came to terms with it in the future.

But future-Dean had found the Colt – so they had been looking for it, for the past five years – and they were going to finally kill Lucifer with it. _Too little too late._ They were discussing it with Cas – who had thrown on a jacket which also appeared to be one of Dean's – and another leader apparently named Risa. She brought up the question of how Dean expected to kill the devil if they didn't know where he was, but he explained that he'd got it out of a demon. And, according to Cas, that meant through means of torture.

"Oh, so we're torturing again?" Dean asked, trying to hide his disgust. "Well that's good. Classy."

Cas smiled up at him, and future-Dean glared. _Jealous of yourself? You would be._ "What?" Cas said defensively. "I like past-Dean." Future-Dean rolled his eyes, pulling out a map and showing them the spot where Lucifer was. "Oh, good," Cas said sarcastically. "It's right in the middle of a hot spot."

"Crawling with Croats, yeah," Dean returned. "Are you saying my plan is reckless?"

"Are _you_ saying we, uh, walk in straight up the driveway, past all the demons and the Croats and we shoot the devil?" Cas shot back. They sounded like a married couple. _Close enough, I guess._

"Yes."

"Okay," Cas said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you don't like 'reckless', I could use 'insouciant' maybe."

"Are you coming?" Dean asked coolly.

Cas sighed. "Of course." Then he glanced at past-Dean. "But why's he? I mean, he's you five years ago, if something happens to him, you're gone, right?"

"He's coming."

"Okay." Dean hated how Cas was so obedient to him, even though he was being a total dick. _He must love you a lot._ "Well, uh, I'll go get the grunts moving." He stood up, and Risa followed him out. Future-Dean called after him.

"We're loaded and on the road by midnight!"

"Alrighty!" Cas called back. Dean asked about why he was really going, and his future self explained that Sam wasn't actually dead – worse, he'd said yes to the devil. And now future-Dean wanted him to see himself killing Sam, so he could regret and go back and say yes to Michael.

"

They reached the devil's lair, and future-Dean's plan was to send everyone in, right through the front door. Dean had a problem with that, and pulled himself aside.

"You're lying to this people and to me," Dean said. "There's something you're not telling us."

Future-Dean took some prodding, but he 'fessed up. "This place should be white-hot with Croats. Where are they?"

Dean looked around. He was right – there was nothing. It was a trap. "Well then, we can't go through the front."

"We're not," future-Dean said. He nodded at the others. "They are."

Dean gave himself an incredulous stare. "You're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too?" _Cas, who's given up _literally_ everything now, who's so madly in love with you that he probably knows your plan and will follow it anyways? You're gonna let him die?_ His future self didn't answer, but he knew he would go through with it anyways. _How could you? He _loves_ you._ And Dean realized, if he got back, he wouldn't let Cas go – not ever. He couldn't lose someone who loved him that much. "I'm not gonna let you."

Future-Dean raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really?" And before Dean could defend himself, future-Dean knocked him out.

"

Dean came to, hearing the sound of gunfire. The gates were open, and everyone was gone. He ran towards the building, where the windows were all being lit up as guns were shot. He was too late. Cas was in there, maybe alive, maybe dead. _No!_ He had to find a way in. He ran around back and found – himself, being pinned down by someone in a white suit. They snapped his neck and turned.

Sam. No, not anymore. Lucifer.

Lucifer had killed him. And he knew – and he told him – that he would never win. He wouldn't say yes to Michael, he wouldn't kill Sam. He could alter details but no matter what, they would always end up right where they were – with Lucifer winning. And with that, he was returned to present day.

"

Zachariah had created a future universe to send Dean Winchester. Given that he wasn't the most powerful angel – although he was pretty high up there as of late – he wasn't in complete control of every detail. He set up three days, filled with events designed to break Dean into saying yes to Michael. Bobby was dead – in real time, Bobby was recovering in a hospital, but he would never walk again, thanks to Dean. Sam was dead, but no, better yet, Lucifer had won Sam over – when Dean had _just _found out that Sam was Lucifer's vessel, and refused to help him. Croatoan virus, most of the planet destroyed and the population dead, and because Zachariah wasn't blind, a human, suicidal, in-love-with-Dean Castiel. It wasn't far-fetched. But it was that detail that got away on him.

Zachariah had planned for Dean to see how much Castiel loved him – so much that he would stick around with him, become human and lose his will to live, but not die until Dean told him to – but it might have gone too far. He feared he'd brought Dean back reciprocating the feelings, and that would be less productive than he wished. Dean seemed determined on never letting Castiel die, or even out of his sight now – which would distract him from the Michael plan, if he had something else to keep fighting for, something to put his hopes in.

So Zachariah tweaked Dean's memory of the future universe just slightly. He made him forget that he was so attached to Castiel, and that Castiel was so madly in love with him. He let the arc remain, but it he made it not impact him so strongly. The focus had been showing him how terrible the world ended up being, and what happened to him and Sam if he kept saying no. Then he returned Dean to his motel room, and asked him again to give himself over to Michael.

Somehow, Dean still said no.

"

"Give yourself to Michael. Say yes and we can strike. Before Lucifer gets to Sam. Before billions die."

After everything Dean had seen, with the world having truly fallen to hell in the future, Dean was tempted to say yes. He was. But he had seen himself, he could point out all the mistakes he had made to get where he'd gotten. Leaving Sam – which he'd done just before Zach had sent him into the future – putting himself above his friends, above logic and reason, and falling in love – trying to be happy when he had an obligation to the world. He _could_ do it differently, and he would.

But when he told Zachariah no, it only pissed him off. He was just being threatened to be sent back, when Zach disappeared – or rather, Dean did. Somehow, he'd gotten away. Where was he now? He turned, and found the answer.

"That's pretty nice timing, Cas."

Cas was smiling at him. "We had an appointment."

Dean felt his heart cracking as he realized how absolutely perfect Cas was, in all his flawed ways. He was the best friend Dean could ever ask for, and Dean was going to protect him. And he could almost understand why he'd fallen in love with him (although he wouldn't now, at least not yet – maybe later). He would never find someone so idiotically devoted, and he wasn't going to take that for granted. He _wasn't_ going to ever just send him in as bait for anything.

And he wasn't going to let him become a hippie.

He placed a hand on his shoulder, making sure he had his attention. Of course he did, Cas always listened to him. _That's what got you killed. I promise I won't do that to you again. _"Don't ever change," he told him. Although Cas had no idea what he'd just gone through, he gave him a small, reassuring smile. And with that, Dean called Sam, told him they needed to talk, in person. Then he hung up and gave Cas a serious look.

"Cas, if I ever," Dean paused, closing his eyes and frowning. "_Ever_ start acting like... well, not me... Kick my ass." Cas looked taken aback. "No, seriously. Beat the hell out of me until I'm sane again. I don't ever want the angels to control me. If you have to kill me, do it. Just...

"Don't let me change either."

"

**This episode has a lot of feels for me. My head canon is that they were together in the future!verse (which Zachariah intended because he knew Cas was in love with Dean and vice versa, and he wanted to show him that if he tried to be happy, fall in love, etc, he'd just end up hurting Cas because, future!Cas was **_**not**_** happy), so I had to put that in there. Otherwise, once again, Dean's been forced to forget that he's in love with Cas (also a head canon of mine, that Dean falls for Cas but every time Cas or someone makes him forget. One day they'll realize it's just inevitable *cough* season 8 *cough*).  
Anyways, reviews always appreciated. Tell me what I did right, or wrong, what you loved, what you hated, if I should just cut my fingers off and stop writing. :{P**


	10. Foolproof

_**05x10,13-14 ("Abandon All Hope", "The Song Remains the Same", "My Bloody Valentine")**_

For weeks, the Winchesters' faced their regulars – pagan gods, witches, ghosts, and even the trickster showed up again. Except, he wasn't a trickster – his name was Gabriel, and he was Cas' brother, an angel. They saw Cas a couple times and had to get him out of trouble, but he wouldn't stay for long, still busy on his God-hunt. However, when they received a tip on the whereabouts of the Colt, they reeled him in to help them find a demon named Crowley. He didn't take long to find him, fortunately, in the midst of a crossroads deal.

"Even as we speak, it's... going down." Dean loved Cas' attempt at trying to be "in" with the humans – because he always tried, and tried too hard, and it was like a five year old learning a new word and throwing it into every sentence even if it didn't make sense, just so they could sound smart. But it was cute, because Dean always bugged him about how inhuman he was, and he did the best he could with what he had to make himself better for Dean, and the devotion was something he greatly admired in Cas. Also, his ability to keep track of a demon was very convenient.

But, to throw him off – because Dean was an ass like that and he loved to make the angel's life extremely difficult in every small way he could – Dean said, "Okay huggie bear, just don't lose him." Cas would probably ask someone what "huggie bear" meant, and then, confused, would want to ask Dean but wouldn't because he always wanted to seem impressive and on top of his game, so would likely ask Sam instead why Dean had called him the mushy term of endearment. Dean waited, and a moment later Castiel told him he'd followed the demon, and gave them the address. He sounded sincerely ashamed when he told Dean he couldn't get in though – the place where the demon dwelled was angel-proof.

"That's okay, you did great," Dean reassured him. Of all the angels they could put their chips on, they _would_ get the one with self-esteem issues. The broken one, and now the fallen one too. Dean was just a magnet for freaks. _Cas isn't a freak. He's just... troubled._

They headed to where Cas had told them, and met the demon, Crowley, who was definitely not what they'd expected. He _wanted_ them to have the Colt, and kill the devil. He knew that if the humans were dead, the demons would follow them, so he gave them the Colt, and sent them on their way.

On Wednesday night, Ellen and Jo met up with them and Cas at Bobby's house, where they'd been planning and researching with Bobby for their attack. Ellen brought the drinks, which helped ease the tension of the fact that, they would end it tomorrow. They were going to kill the devil. She asked Cas jokingly if he wasn't too much of a lightweight for a shot, and he assured her he had a high threshold for alcohol. Unconvinced, she poured them both half a dozen shots, and took one of hers down, grimacing. Then she gestured at him to take one of his own, and, concentrating very hard, he downed one after the next, until he'd finished his row. Ellen was stunned into silence, and Cas glanced at Dean half-expectantly. He just shook his head, grinning, and slipped out of the kitchen, beer in hand.

He and Sam were talking business, when it hit him: this was likely his last night – why waste it alone? There was Jo... But, when he asked, she didn't bite. Something about self-respect. Cas was watching him with that pensive look that made Dean's head spin, and had probably heard him get rejected. If he had, he didn't seem to care, or he was doing a really good job hiding any feelings he had on the subject. At least he didn't laugh. But maybe he didn't understand. It seemed likely – just moments later, he did a great job comforting them all by saying they were guaranteed not to survive their battle with Lucifer. Dean almost considered asking Cas, but he couldn't even imagine how he would word it, and he didn't feel like being turned down twice.

The next day, they split in two groups when they reached the Devil's new hideout – the girls and Cas, and the brothers – searching for people. But the town was empty. When they met up again, Cas was gone, claiming there were reapers everywhere. Dean hardly had time to wonder if Lucifer had gotten him, when they met up with the demon bitch Meg, who was packing a small army of hellhounds. They were attacked, and trapped in a small hardware store – and things didn't look good for Jo, who'd been shredded by one of the dogs. They managed to radio Bobby and ask for help. He seemed to have an idea of what was happening – Lucifer was trying to raise Death, one of the legendary Four Horsemen. As for Jo – she wasn't going to make it out, and she knew it. She was willing to sacrifice herself to blow up the hellhounds. And Ellen wasn't leaving her daughter behind.

So that was two of them, on top of Cas being gone. Their numbers were dwindling and it seemed very inevitable that Dean would die too. It truly hit him – he would be going back to Hell. _Maybe not. The angels wouldn't let it happen. But they don't care about my hunter friends or rebellious angel._ In the end, everyone was gone. He didn't have to go five years into the future to be the jerk he was then – he was already that guy now, sacrificing his friends for the cause. And, just like he'd promised not to do, he'd gotten Cas offed. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't sure of it, but if Cas had met Lucifer, he wouldn't have gotten two words out before he was dead. With all his friends dead, Dean was all the more anxious to kill the devil.

They found him. And the Colt proved ineffective, which was a bit of a backfire for them. Dean didn't even have time to be surprised before Lucifer flung him across the field into a tree, and he was knocked out cold.

"

Cas, after finding Lucifer, being trapped in a ring of holy fire, and being taunted by a demon slut – who he had the joy of pushing into the fire to break the ring – was lucky to find the Winchesters just before his brother rose Death. He zapped them back to Bobby's, then searched Sam's mind – he had an unspoken rule that he wouldn't read Dean's thoughts, although he wasn't sure why – for the whereabouts of Jo and Ellen. According to him, they were no longer in this realm. From what little he knew about humans, he recognized this to be a time of grieving and comforting, but from what he knew about Dean – who was much more complicated than other humans – Cas knew he would just want to be left alone. He met Dean's eyes, filled with sorrow. _I'm sorry._ And then he left.

Cas gave them time, not interfering if it wasn't necessary. He left Dean alone for weeks. But, no matter where Dean went, even if he was hidden from all the angels, Cas was always in the back of his head – almost literally. He always stayed there and kept watch that other angels wouldn't get to him while he slept. He gave Dean privacy, not invading on whatever his personal fantasies were, just keeping a radar on for Heaven's army. And sometimes, he helped Dean fall asleep, so that he _could_ dream, get away from the world for a while, or cast away his nightmares, even though it sapped Cas' energy to do it.

One night, Cas sensed an intrusion – Anna. At first he wondered if Dean was just dreaming about her, but no, she had broken in. How? Cas himself had handed her over to Heaven, she couldn't have just escaped. They must have let her out. Anna told Dean to meet her somewhere, and left. But Cas wouldn't let Dean go after her – obviously Heaven wanted her to do something, and it could be dangerous for him. So Cas erased the dream and went after Anna himself.

According to Anna, she _had_ escaped from Heaven. Not to just be free again, no – to kill Sam Winchester. Lucifer's vessel – and if Sam wasn't alive, he had no one to fight in. He couldn't take on Michael, he couldn't win.

"No," Cas told her. There had to be another way. "Sam is my friend." More than that, Sam was the most important person in the world to Dean. And Dean was that person to Cas. He didn't want Dean to suffer, didn't want him to lose anyone else. He hadn't been doing well since they'd lost Jo and Ellen. Slowly, everyone that mattered to Dean was dwindling – really, it was just Bobby and Sam who were left. And so Cas did the best with what he had to protect those three humans. He wasn't going to let Anna just waltz in and kill one of them. They were going to stop Lucifer, but it wasn't going to be like this.

"You've changed," Anna noted. Changed? Rebelled, died, fallen. Yeah, that would probably change a person. He'd found something more, his true purpose. And he'd done it without Heaven's order, without even their consent. He'd found Dean. And the world might end soon, but at least if he died, it would be having found himself.

"Maybe too late, but I have." He once had cared about Anna, and he still might, but she was pitting herself against him if she was the Winchesters' antagonist. He warned her, if she tried to kill Sam, _he_ would kill _her_. And with that, she went.

Cas sighed, pulling out his cell phone awkwardly. He still wasn't used to the thing, but he didn't mind it because it connected him to Dean. He dialled his number – which he'd memorized, not knowing how to save contacts – and waited for Dean to pick up.

"Cas?"

"Dean, where are you?"

Dean gave him his whereabouts. "Why? Is everything okay?" He hadn't finished the sentence when Cas was there in front of him.

"Not exactly," Cas told him, pocketing his phone. "It's Anna. She's going after Sam." Dean's brow furrowed worriedly as Cas explained what she had told him – leaving out the fact that she had escaped from Heaven and visited Dean in his sleep.

"Really, Anna?" Dean sounded annoyed, which was good. Cas knew Dean had something with her once, but he didn't seem to be holding those feelings now that she was a threat to Sam. "So she's gone all Glenn Close, that's awesome."

Cas didn't understand what Dean had meant. This happened a lot, and it bothered him, because he wanted to be on the same page as Dean, but he wasn't up to date on all his human media information.

"Who's Glenn Close?"

"No one, just this psycho bitch who likes to boil her rabbits," Dean sighed. That didn't really help Cas, but then, most times when Dean tried to explain, it never did. Cas returned to drawing his sigils to find Anna, when Sam cut in.

"The plan to kill me, would it actually stop Satan?" he wondered. Dean tried to tell him off, but Sam wanted to know what Cas thought. He looked at Sam, who was shooting him a "puppy-dog" look, and then to Dean, whose eyes pleaded with him. Cas tried to work out what Dean was thinking. _He wants you to lie. Remember what he told you? When humans want something bad enough, they lie. If you tell Sam the truth, he'll likely sacrifice himself, or try to, and that will cause a fight with Dean. If they fight, Dean will get hurt. He always gets hurt – he hates fighting with Sam more than anything. Sam trusts you to tell the truth, so he'll believe what you say. You have to lie._

"No," Cas said carefully. "She's a... Glenn Close." He went back to the sigils again, which he explained were to try and find Anna. Dean asked what the point of it was – why try and find her if she would just try to kill Sam? "She won't give up until Sam is dead," Cas clarified. "So we kill her first."

He finished the sigil, and chanted a ritual, feeling the power exert itself painfully. It was like a physical thing, like he could feel it being ripped from his molecules, sucked out of his veins. He tried not to focus on it, keeping his mind open, searching for Anna. He found her – back in time. 1978.

"I wasn't even born then!"

No, it didn't make sense. But... "You won't be, if she kills your parents."

"Take us back right now," Dean ordered. But Cas explained that it was hard enough time-travelling _with_ Heaven's power, and without it... He wasn't sure he could zap himself alone, but taking them as well would be dangerous for all of them. But Dean convinced him, with whatever power he held in those dazzlingly aggressive eyes. They packed the necessities, and Cas concentrated, hoping he could at least safely get them there, taking all the impact on himself. They whirled back thirty years, Cas landed them, and then he blacked out.

"

Dean saw that they had made it back to the right time just from all the old cars around them – including the one that nearly hit him and Sam. Cas had sent them straight into the middle of the road, which was the first thing to tip Dean off that Cas hadn't been lying about not being able to travel as well anymore. The second thing to make it clear – he couldn't see Cas anywhere. They backed onto the sidewalk to avoid traffic, and Dean spotted Cas on the ground, leaning against a car, barely conscious.

"Cas!" His stomach twisted and he jumped over to him, grabbing him by the jacket. He felt Cas clutch clutch at his arm weakly, saw blood dripping out of his nose. "Take it easy."

"I'm fine," he muttered roughly. "I'm much better than I expected..." They tried to pull him up, but he choked, coughing out blood and losing his grip on consciousness. His hand slipped away from Dean's jacket, and Dean felt his nerves screaming, everything just wanting to help Cas, fix him, see his eyes open again. _It's gonna be okay, Dean, stay rational. He's not gonna die..._

Sam helped heave him up, but Dean picked him up and carried him to the motel two buildings down, telling Sam to go find out where their parents were living. The people in the motel seemed shocked by Cas' appearance, but Dean just told them he'd gotten in a fight, and booked Cas a room. He took him to it and settled him in, laying him carefully on the bed. Cas came back around while Dean was wiping the blood off his face.

"You okay Cas?" Cas tried to sit up, his eyes disoriented and breathing shallow, but Dean pushed him back gently. "Slow down there turbo. You're not going anywhere."

"I'm fine – fine-"

"No you're not, Cas," Dean sighed, seeing him break into a sweat. "I don't even think you're conscious. Come on, let's just get you out of that jacket and then you stay in bed, alright? Cas?"

He might as well have been talking to himself, because Cas was all but out of it. But he started pulling on his sleeve, trying to remove the coat, so Dean guessed he'd sort of got through. His eyes were barely open, glimpses of blue peeking through the dark lashes, not focused on anything in particular. But when he finally managed to struggle out of the jacket, his eyes opened, blinking perplexed perplexed perplexedly, and landing on Dean as he held the trench coat out to him.

"Good," Dean said, taking the coat and hanging it on the bed post. "Okay, now just... stay – here. Is there anything you're gonna need?" Cas didn't answer, back to his comatose self and probably out cold for good, at least for a while. Dean shook his head. _You're some kind of crazy, Cas._

Dean slipped out of the room, and as he turned into the hallway, he bumped into someone. They wore a nametag which had the word "Manager" on it.

"Hey! Can you make sure that no one goes in there, no matter what?" Dean didn't need maids, or angels, finding Cas unconscious in there.

"Don't sweat it," the guy said casually. Then, to Dean's amusement, added, "Wanna buy some dope?" Dean laughed and turned him down, then headed out to find Sam, who was also laughing, over the state of the male populations' mustaches. Then he asked about Cas.

"He'll wake up," Dean told him, trying to assure himself as much as his brother. _He'll be fine. Just a rough day. He needs some rest, that's all. _"He's tough for a little nerdy dude with wings."

"Yeah. If he landed like that, maybe so did Anna," Sam added. Then he held up a piece of paper he'd ripped out of a phone book, with their parents address on it. They weren't hard to find, but Anna got to them at the same time, and it was a showdown. But, as no one had expected, Michael himself showed up, and killed Anna, before wiping their parents' memories and returning them to their year. It had only taken one day, and now Anna was dead, Sam was alive, and Cas –

Cas! He was still in a hotel in 1978! What if Michael found him? Dean voiced these concerns to Sam, and Sam tried, unsuccessfully, to reassure him.

"I don't think Michael cares, honestly," Sam told him. "And Cas, he's probably still out, but like you said, he's tough. He'll be back here in no time. We'll just wait it out."

Dean couldn't sleep all night, he just lay there waiting. _Cas, come on buddy, you've gotta come back._

Around four in the morning, Sam woke up. "Dean. I can see your eyes. Have you even slept yet? He's going to come back, just try to sleep."

"I _can't_, Sam," Dean said harshly. _What if he doesn't come back? What if he does, and he's unconscious, or dying, and I just sleep through it?_ "I just can't, Sam."

Dean sat through the rest of the night, and then into the morning. Around three in the afternoon, Sam said he was going to go out and get Dean something to drink, so at least he'd have something to take his mind off his worries. He came back a few minutes later with a bottle of Jack Daniels, and Dean couldn't help but give it a small smile when he saw it. Then he heard Sam say something, but didn't catch what, and turned to see Cas standing, unstable, in the middle of the room, Sam hurrying to catch him.

"Cas!" Dean rushed over, grabbing his arm. "You son of a bitch, you made it." He stared, admiring the angel who was still in one piece. He was examining his hand as if it was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

"I did," he said blankly, then he looked up at Dean, his pupils dilating and contracting erratically. _That's not a good sign._ "Well, I'm very surprised." He tilted his head to look at Sam, taking in the two brothers as if he wasn't sure of their reality. Then he sagged, eyes rolling into the back of his head and closing. Out cold again. They carefully dragged him to the bed and plunked him down, shaking their heads.

"Well, I could use that drink now," Dean huffed. _What a trio we are. We are potentially the worst candidates for taking on Heaven and the devil._ "This is it. Team Free Will."

"

They stayed in the motel four more nights, waiting for Cas to heal. Sam didn't argue, because he rarely saw Dean being so doting, and Dean didn't complain. He took care of Cas the way he'd take care of his little brother, mostly keeping his distance but never taking his eyes of the angel. It was a day and a half before Cas stirred, and as soon as he did, Dean was at his side.

"Cas, hey!" The angel's eyes rolled over to Dean's face, not fully focused. "You alright?"

"Fine," Cas managed. He heaved himself so he was sitting up. "How long've I been out for?"

"Since yesterday," Sam answered. "How're you feeling?"

"Depleted," Cas confessed. "I'll live."

"You need anything?" Dean asked. Cas shook his head, and that was it. For the next two days, Dean didn't leave the hotel, just watching after Cas, who stayed in bed. Sam left them alone a lot, but they didn't say much when they were on their own. Then on the third morning, Dean woke up and Cas wasn't there anymore. He called the angel, and found out he'd just decided to go without telling them he was leaving. Dean made a note to himself that next time he met up with Cas, he'd teach him some things about being human, because his lack of social skills was really starting to get on his nerves.

The next weekend was Valentines weekend, and Dean wasn't feeling much of a pull to go out for once, so Sam tracked down a fairly normal – okay, maybe not normal, but it wasn't Lucifer-big – case for them to go after. They quickly found out angels were involved, when their victims should Enochian symbols on their hearts, and Dean called Cas. _Just can't get enough of him, can you?_ Once again, before Dean finished speaking, he found himself face to face with the angel. He needed to stop doing that, but Dean didn't bother to tell him off. He just dragged him over to the table where the hearts lay in containers.

Cas immediately picked up one of the hearts and examined the marking on it. _That's gross, Cas._ He put the heart back in it's box and wiped his hand on the side of it, before resting on the edge of the table. Dean felt a shiver as his hand imperceptibly brushed against the angel's. But Cas pulled away quickly, pacing while explaining the markings – which had been placed by a cherub. Cupid was in town. And apparently, he'd gone bad.

_Excellent. So much for a normal case._ Lately they were fighting Heaven as much as they were Hell. Cas too seemed very unimpressed by the angel's actions. Although "passionately angry in a very sexy way" was a better description.

"We have to stop him, before he kills again!" Cas said animatedly – which, for Cas, meant his voice grew rougher and deeper (if that was even possible), the lights in his eyes dancing ardently. Dean couldn't resist thinking how great that passion would translate in bed. He didn't think Cas had it in him, but then, the angel was full of surprises.

"Of course we do," Dean said, trying to sound serious while keeping a straight face. He fooled Cas, who hadn't seemed to pick up on sarcasm yet. _Oh well._

Cas was convinced Cupid would make his appearance at a Valentine-decorated restaurant. _I ended up spending Valentine's day with my brother and an angel? Must be getting old. At least one of them's cute._

The brothers ordered lunch while they waited, but then Dean realized he wasn't actually hungry, so Cas put a stake in his burger. _Since when are angels hungry?_ But Dean felt his stomach twist as he was struck by the occurrence that maybe Cas was falling into human patterns, like eating. How long would it be before Cas was fully human? And how long would he survive without his angel powers? Dean would probably live to see him go, and it would be another loss that he was to blame for. He tried not to think about that, watching as Cas raised the burger to his lips, but suddenly perked up, lowering it. He seemed to be seeing something they weren't – Cupid?

It was. Cas trapped him, and they quickly found out Cupid wasn't their target – so they were back to square one.

The next day, Cas revealed that Famine was in town – another Horseman. _Can we not go one freaking job without having to fight against this shit?!_ The town was hungry. And Cas was part of it apparently – his vessel was affected, which was why he was eating suddenly. That was something of a relief, until Cas dropped the next bomb – Famine was preparing to march across the Earth. With the effect on this town – everyone was quickly dying – he could wipe out the world in a matter of months. Their only hope was to get Famine's ring, like they'd gotten War's. But it was hard to work with Cas when he seemed so focused on his damn burgers.

"What are you, the hamburglar?" Dean asked, annoyed. Cas was still staring at the empty bag of hamburgers sadly. He'd already gone through a dozen while they'd been talking, and Dean was starting to feel sick from watching. "Have you even tried to stop it?"

"I'm an angel," Cas muttered, without looking up. "I can stop any time I want."

There wasn't much point in telling him that every drug addict to happen ever said that exact line at one point or another. Dean just hoped it wouldn't slow them down too much – they didn't need to be making burger breaks while they were trying to fight a Horseman. But Sam was down too, craving demon blood, meaning he couldn't go fight the Horseman who was surrounded by demons. So it was just him and the hungry angel – and who knew when he'd start feeling the symptoms. What would he do, eat himself to death – or, more likely, have sex until he died? How could you even die from having sex? And if it hit soon... Well, Cas was the only target, and even sane he probably wouldn't say no to him. Of course, the angel was more interested in his burgers...

Something about that pissed Dean off. And it didn't even make sense. So what if the angel was more interested in food than him? It technically wasn't even him, it was his vessel. Which made him wonder what the angel was craving – even if angels weren't affected by the Horsemen, Cas still probably wanted something. _Yeah, to go back home – which he can't do. To find his father, who's God knows where... no pun intended._ Cas didn't care about food or sex or drugs or money. He just wanted to be obedient to his bossy family, or the next best thing – Dean. But now, Famine had gotten in between that in the form of a sandwich – actually, hundreds of sandwiches according to Cas (which officially turned Dean off of hamburgers forever... or at least for the rest of the week). So when they found Famine's lair, and Cas was too busy gazing longingly at a wrapper to pay attention, Dean took the anger he felt and focused it on Famine, rather than Cas.

"Hey, happy meal! The plan," Dean reminded him. He hadn't like the sound of it the first time, and he didn't like it any more when Cas repeated it.

"I take the knife, I go in, I cut off the ring hand of Famine, and I meet you back here in the parking lot." Yeah, still a terrible idea.

"Sounds foolproof." Cas was already gone. Dean figured Cas would be quick, but he could hardly count to ten before jumping out of the car and heading in after him. What had happened to the damn angel now?

Of course, Cas had found some ground beef, and he was stuffing his face. _So much for being able to turn it off._ Dean hissed at him, but was ignored, and then attacked by a demon. A second demon followed and they brought him to Famine. Famine went on about how hunger came from the body _and_ the soul – and yet Dean didn't have any hunger, why was that? He was empty, a deep, dark "nothing" that couldn't be filled with food, drink, sex.

"You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already _dead_."

Dean wanted to retaliate – but what could he do? Fortunately, he was saved by Sam – who'd evidentally drank demon blood, and exorcised the demons, stopped Famine, allowing them to snipe his ring. But Famine's words rang out in his head.

_You're already dead._

"

"Dean-"

"You knew, didn't you? You heard what Famine said, and you've known the whole damn time."

As soon as Dean had taken Sam to Bobby's and locked him in the panic room – as Sam had asked – Dean spotted Cas, who had vanished almost immediately after they got Famine's ring. He knew the angel was avoiding him, and he knew why. Just as Famine could see inside him, Cas could, and he could see the hole in Dean. He never said a damn word. He remembered Cas asking him why he wasn't affected by Famine, and Dean had just shrugged it off, but for a moment, he'd been sure Cas was staring past his eyes. _Eyes are the windows to the soul – or, in my case, the hole._ Cas knew there was nothing in him.

"Dean, you're not-"

"_Don't lie to me_!" Dean screamed, wanting to hit the angel but withstanding – it would only hurt him. He shoved Cas against the door, beyond which his brother's cries echoed. Staring into the angel's eyes, he slowly grew calm, and wondered if that was Cas' doing. "I'm a bottomless pit, Cas. Nothing can fill me, nothing can fix it. I've got nothing, no one. Everyone in my life gets screwed over because of me. If they aren't dead, they're like Bobby – broken – or you – lost. Or Sam..." He glanced over Cas' shoulder, and Sam's yelling for them never ceased. He pushed away, returning to his watch-post, staring into the distance and taking swigs of Jack Daniels.

Cas didn't answer for a while, but then finally responded. "That's not him in there. Not really."

"I know."

"Dean," Cas said carefully. "Sam just has to get it out of his system, and then he'll be-"

_Fine? He'll be stuck with me still, fighting the devil and angels and demons, putting his life on the line every damn day. Because of me._ Dean stepped outside, where it was beginning to rain, and stared up at the sky. He was about to take a sip from his bottle, but then realized, what was the point? It wouldn't make anything any better. Nothing was ever going to make anything better.

He was so defeated. He could barely stand anymore, the weight of his suffering pulling him down, sinking in his chest. He felt like he was drowning, chained to a boulder at the bottom of the ocean – and he was tired. He was lost and hopeless and exhausted, and he couldn't keep doing this.

Tears filled his eyes as he began to beg the heavens for help. Well, he wasn't sure if it was Heaven, or God he was pleaing to – usually it was Cas, but he didn't think even Cas could help him now, and he didn't want to burden him anyway.

"I need some help... please..."

"

Cas heard Dean's cries, but knew he didn't want the fallen angel's help. A while later, Dean came back in, and stood outside the door, eventually sliding down the wall, fighting to keep his eyes open, but ultimately losing. He knelt beside him, taking Dean's jacket and draping it over him gently. He brushed a hand over the broken man's forehead, wishing there was a way he could put him back together, but the best he could do for now was allow him a dreamless sleep.

_I haven't given up on you, Dean._

**(Titled "Foolproof", like Castiel and all his plans. Ha ha.) So, as I said, I haven't updated for like a week, but here we are. I'm too braindead to tell if this chapter was any good. I've been working on my other fic this week and my mind is fried so. I promise I'll make the next chapter better (update this weekend hopefully). Reviews, of course, are loved. **


	11. Suicidal

_**05x17-18 ("99 Problems", "Point of No Return")**_

Dean was falling apart. He was losing hope in himself, in his ability to save the world, stop Lucifer, end the apocalypse. He saw towns tearing themselves apart, fear ripping into the centres of every soul, "religion" turning saints into sinners and sinners into saints, but everyone into selfish, greedy monsters. Hell on Earth, that was one way to describe it – he saw people making the same mistakes he'd made down under, throwing lives under the bus to save their own. And he despised it, more than anything. Knowing what had happened to the world, and knowing that it was his fault – he was the one who started it, and he was the only one who could stop it. But he wouldn't, because he didn't want to sacrifice his body, his brother's life, for the entire planet. He had thought he could find a way, thought there was hope, but there was nothing. There wasn't even a God anymore. Some part of him had always held on to the tiny notion that God was still watching over them, taking care of them, rooting for them, and now he wasn't even up on his throne. At their time of greatest need, He had decided he was going on strike, and he'd left them hopelessly alone. As for Cas – Dean hadn't heard from him in weeks, but he figured, if God bailing on them was hard for him, it had to be hell for Cas. After all, he'd left his everything in faith that God was still trying to help him, and now he was just as abandoned and screwed as the rest of them. Dean decided to let Cas have his space, not calling or contacting him, just letting him deal with the news. Besides, he felt so sick, he didn't want to eat, drink, have sex, or even wake up in the morning. And slowly, the pieces fell.

He imagined what a happy life would be. Something simple – no fighting, no hunting, no angels or demons. Coffee in the morning, working on cars, coming home to a good meal and a happy family. Like Ben and Lisa. They were simple – Lisa was beautiful and nice and he could wake up to her having made him breakfast in the morning, telling him to have a nice day at work, having a beer ready for him when he got home; and Ben was his own mini-me, he couldn't go wrong there. They would be a good, normal life. If anything about Dean's life was ever good or normal.

Sam could tell Dean was breaking at the seams, ready to give up it all, get off his high horse and just give in to the angels, and he tried to talk him out of it. He tried to make him believe they could find a way. But what way was there? What hope did they have when even God, who was supposed to be all-knowing, had forsaken them? He knew he'd been fighting against it all for so long – his whole life – but he was getting tired, tired of losing, of lying to himself. Nothing in his life would ever be okay, and it wasn't getting better with the path that he was going down. In fact, he was making it worse for every human on the earth, and it would at least be somewhat redeemable if he gave in to Michael and saved them before Lucifer reaped all their souls. Thinking about it, he didn't even feel afraid anymore – he felt the emptiness inside him, that had been there for so long now, and he embraced it. He knew that hole could be filled by the angel, and knew it would only get darker the longer he held out. Because the angels wouldn't give up – not ever. Not until he said yes, or until they lost. So he couldn't win either way. He could just suffer as long as he could until he couldn't bear it anymore.

He couldn't bear it anymore.

And maybe it wouldn't be so bad, to give in to the angels, to let Michael take over and kill Lucifer. Then Dean would finally be able to be at peace, forever. Maybe, just maybe, he could bargain for Sam to be saved. Either way, he was getting so worn down. And if that was what the angels wanted, they were doing a good job. They had been trying for months, and now they were starting to reach a point of sweet success. Dean couldn't even be bothered to pray, not to Cas who was MIA, certainly not to God. His life was beyond prayer, and he was beyond his life.

_This has to end._

"

Castiel found himself, lost. The news that his father was gone broke him in ways nothing else had the past year. It was worse than rebelling, losing his kingdom and his family and everything he'd ever known, dying, falling from Heaven in blind faith to a father who'd lost faith in him and a man who'd never had it. Because all of it, every horror and pain and torture he'd gone through in the name of it all, had been absolutely pointless. He had suffered in the name of God, and now God was gone. No two-weeks notice, no goodbye note – He just stepped down and left the world to break to the bitter end. And Cas, naive – no, just _stupid_ – had let himself believe in the man, walked down the dead end street thinking there could be a way, wanting so badly to think he wasn't going to go through it all and just end up nowhere. Even after being told time after time, he didn't want to believe he was wrong, that there was nothing to believe in after all. His father, the light and hope and giver, had gone out and taken away his world, sent him to another world just to watch it burn down. And Cas was in the midst of the smoke, choking to death.

After a few weeks of wallowing self-pity, buried so deep in the newly punched abyss in his soul, Cas got sick of being so sick. He figured, since he was becoming more human every day, and would suffer the same fate as the rest of them, he would escape like many others did – through drinking. He found himself a liquor store, and began to drink his way through it, for three days straight. But no matter how much alcohol he consumed, it didn't make him feel less empty. He gave up on the idea.

Then he noticed his phone, with a new voicemail. It took some time – he was bad enough with technology when he was sober – but he got to the message and listened to it. The message seemed to go on forever, and it irritated Cas for whatever reason, but he didn't really catch what it had said, so he listened to it a few more times until he realized Sam had called and asked for his help. He played the message one more time and caught the address, then wondered how old the message was. He didn't know how to tell, so he just hoped they were still there. Not that it really mattered. Cas was done with caring, about everything. Even the Winchesters at the moment seemed fairly insignificant.

Cas found his way to where Sam was, and was bombarded by stupid questions. Finally it got through to him that he needed to stop Sam from talking – at least about unimportant things. Sam explained about what was happening – a girl who claimed to be a prophet, but was actually the Whore of Babylon, some evil bitch intent on condemning souls.

He only half-cared, if that. So what? Everyone was dead anyways. If God had stopped caring, there was probably no reason to care anymore anyways. Apparently, he started voicing these thoughts, and it seemed to concern Sam. He heard Sam talking, and at some point actually tuned in to listen.

"... just like Dean... given up..."

"Whaddabout Dean?" Cas grumbled. Sam snapped his fingers, trying to get Cas to focus, and explained how Dean seemed pretty down too, on the brink of just giving up and giving in to Michael. At that moment, Dean himself returned to the hotel room, and he did look depressed. On top of that, his hands were covered in blood. Not his own – someone had killed someone else under the Whore's orders.

"It's starting..."

"What's starting?" Dean snapped. "Where the hell have you been?"

Cas could have screamed. How had Dean been when he'd lost his father? Screwed up, suicidal, feeling like hell – and yet he had the nerve to treat Cas like crap when he knew how he felt and knew what he was going through! "On a bender," Cas retorted angrily, and Dean seemed to mellow out a bit.

"Did he – did you say 'on a bender'?"

"Yeah, he's still pretty smashed-"

"It is not of import," Cas cut in, seeing Dean about to ask more stupid questions. He'd had his fill from Sam, and he didn't want to have to go through it all again. He just wanted to stop the Whore and go. Sam told Dean that the "prophet" wasn't actually a prophet, and Dean asked yet another question – if she wasn't a prophet, then what? Cas' head was gyratory and he just wanted a drink, but he answered Dean anyways. "The Whore."

"Wow Cas, tell us what you really think," Dean half-smirked. For some reason, at that moment, what Sam had said about Dean – how he'd all but given up – processed in Cas' mind. It angered him even more that he wasn't suffering alone. It would be bad enough that way, but Dean had been pulled down with him. Dean, the only human he really cared about, the reason he'd fallen, who'd already been through Hell and back – he was the last person to deserve any of this. He wanted to make him forget, but he couldn't – if the angels got hold of him, they'd just return the memories. And he knew his attitude wasn't helping either. But he tried to make a joke, and he couldn't even crack a smile from him.

_I'm sorry Dean. I never would have let any of this happen if I'd known. I would have torn Hell apart, tore it a new one, if I could have stopped you from breaking that seal, saved you before all this. I wish I could go back. But it's too late for both of us now._

"

When Dean walked into the hotel room and saw Cas sitting there, he felt a bit better, and then a lot worse. He was a mess – drunk, faithless, hardly himself anymore. And it scared Dean to see the angel as such a wreck, because it meant he'd given up, and he knew they'd been walking the same fine line. Cas went off to find something to kill the girl he called "the Whore", and it took him longer than usual to return. When he did, he explained that he'd gotten lost – how did an angel get lost? – but managed to find what he was looking for – a stake. Sam suggested Cas have some water, to try and flush out the alcohol, but Dean figured it was beyond mattering at this point. Then Cas told them that a servant of God had to be the one to kill the Whore, and according to him, none of them qualified.

_Don't you lose faith in _me_ too, you bastard. _Dean wasn't so sure if he couldn't fit the bill. He was really considering handing himself over to Michael, so wouldn't that sort of make him Heaven's bitch? But Cas wanted to use the pastor, who they _could_ count on. He went off _again_ to find the father, and came back with the man, who was very disoriented.

"What the hell was that?"

Knowing Cas, he'd probably used his famous line, '_I'm an angel of the Lord'_, picked up the father and teleported them both back to the hotel. "He wasn't lying about the angel thing," Dean sighed. "Have a seat padre, we've gotta have a chat." Dean didn't waste time, getting right into how the pastor's daughter was wicked, and he had to kill her. He didn't want to have this conversation, the _I can't, she's my daughter, blah blah blah._ Dean was done. Everyone was dying and this guy could save some lives, so he would. Because Dean was doing the same thing. _I can't, he's my brother... _Excuses, excuses, and people were dying. Sacrifices had to be made to save the majority.

"Why does it have to be me?" the pastor asked, looking to Cas. "_You're_ an angel."

"A poor example of one," Cas muttered. Although he was standing, his eyes were almost fully closed. Dean could tell he was barely with them, no doubt a hangover setting in. A few minutes later, he went into the other room and sat down, away from everyone else. Dean followed, not caring if Cas wanted to be alone. Because despite Cas being drunk and ill-tempered, and Dean being moody and depressed – despite the fact that they were being dicks to each other, Dean still cared about him. He still wanted to help him, even though there was nothing left he could do. He wanted to try, and he wanted Cas to be the one to make him feel like something more than nothing.

Cas sat on the small couch in the lightless room, head in his hands. It took a moment for Dean's eyes to adjust, but he went and sat beside him. Two small dots appeared as Cas looked up – his eyes the only light spots in the room – and Dean wondered if the angel had night vision. It seemed likely. But there were more important things to worry about, like what Dean was going to be doing, soon.

"Hey Cas," Dean sighed. He knew if he followed through with his thoughts, gave in to Michael, this would likely be the last day he saw Cas. And, with the way things were, this might be his first and last chance with the angel.

"Dean," Cas nodded. "I hear you've been considering Michael's offer. Do you – do you think you will?"

"Maybe."

Dean could see Cas' eyes sadden, and they dropped, disappearing for a moment and then returning to gaze on him. He felt his heart pick up as he thought about Cas, and letting him down. Would it be fair of him, after Cas had just lost God, to bail on him too? _No, he'll be better without me. I got him in to all this mess – it's my fault he's here._ He couldn't turn back now.

"It doesn't matter..." Cas' face fell, and he stared down at his hands sadly. Dean's heart hammered in his chest as he acted, trying not to think. His hand slid under Cas' chin and tilted his face up, forcing their eyes to level so he could communicate with Cas. He glanced quickly down at his lips and then back to his eyes, leaning in cautiously. Cas wasn't stopping him, but then, he didn't pick up on cues anyway. Then, to Dean's surprise, Cas closed the last inches between them, brushing his lips against Dean's. They were tender, and sweet, and so much better than he'd ever imagined. It was light and careful, both being wary of the other. But Dean's mouth longed to explore, yearning to go further. Now that he was really, honestly, actually kissing Cas, and the taste was so saccharine, mixed with the sharp burn of alcohol; Dean was melting in his mouth, gone to Heaven – no pun intended. He deepened the kiss, parting Cas' lips with his own and wrapping a hand around his neck, pushing against him so he was leaned back against the couch. Cas' hands climbed to Dean's shoulders, nails digging into his shirt, triggering a growl in the back of his throat. But Cas pulled away, and Dean felt a whine slip past his lips as Cas let him go.

"Cas," he murmured. "Why..."

"You're gonna leave – go to Michael, right?" Cas said, eyes wide. "Humans always say goodbye. So you gave up too. My father gives up, and now... You know what? Just... forget about it."

He raised his hand and touched Dean's forehead, and the memory disappeared.

"

They formed a plan of attack on the Whore, but none of them knew exactly what they were up against – except Cas, who was too messed up to be very helpful. Dean, knowing he was into the hangover state, gave him a bottle of Tylenol. He couldn't remember his first hangover, but he imagined Cas was probably pining for a drink, and he didn't need the angel falling into that cycle – not with an apocalypse on their asses. Cas downed the whole bottle as suggested, which was almost funny in a sad way, and by the time they were ready to attack, he was already at least a bit more bearable.

The Whore, whoever, was a bitch to fight. She took Cas down with some Enochian torturing chant, then sent the brothers and pastor flying, making her escape as they tried to get up. She ran to the townspeople, and told them to attack the brothers, that they were demons. Then she confronted Dean, and pinned him down, strangling him. The stake needed to kill her, was just slightly out of arm's reach, but he tried for it anyway. _Can you kill her? Are you a servant of Heaven? Maybe. If I help them, I save the world from turning into this – chaos, murder, death._ He managed to get a handle on the stake, and impaled the girl.

And she died. _Guess I'm their bitch after all._ He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it, but he was tired of losing, tired of innocent lives going to waste because of him not having enough balls to be a God-damn vessel. So, if that was how it was gonna be, fine.

He went to find Cas, who was on the floor where the Whore had left him, knees curled up to his chest, shaking. He didn't seem to be being tortured anymore, but whatever it had been was terrifying him.

"Cas!" Dean knelt down beside him. "The Whore's dead. You okay?"

Cas didn't answer, face pinched tight in fear and pain, blood dribbling from his mouth. Uncertain if Cas couldn't hear him, Dean reached out and touched his shoulder, and the angel unexpectedly flinched away from him. "Cas – hey, it's me! It's Dean. Talk to me, buddy. Are you alright?"

The angel slowly opened his eyes, terror burning deep within them. "They... torture souls, in Hell. You know that... In Heaven, their methods are... less physical, but... a thousand times more horrible. The Whore... gave me a reminder of home..." He was rocking ever-so-slightly, and Dean tried again to touch him. This time, Cas didn't move away, and Dean stopped the movement. "It is the fate I am promised... if they ever get me..."

"They won't get you, Cas. I promise." Dean knew he was going to give up, but he wouldn't without protecting the people he cared about. There weren't many, but Sam, Bobby, Cas. Lisa and Ben too, because they were the normal life he couldn't have but he cared about the option he couldn't choose. And they wouldn't touch the angel. They'd let him go back home and he'd be fully forgiven, or no deal.

They returned to their motel with the angel and the pastor. Sam fixed the man up while Dean let Cas rest on his bed. The angel wasn't speaking, or moving, or really doing anything, but his eyes never left Dean. Dean sat on the other bed, thinking over his next move. He had to go now, had to make a break for it. He hated leaving the angel in this state, but it would all be over soon, he'd be okay soon.

"Cas, whatever happens... I meant what I said. I'm not gonna let them get to you." Cas' eyes narrowed slightly as Dean stood up. The pastor was being mended by Sam, seeming to be less-than-okay. Dean assured him he'd be fine, but the pastor disagreed. _The guy lost his daughter, and half his town. Because of me. This is why I've got to go to Michael. I can't keep letting it go on._

"

Dean ran away from his brother, had everything prepared to give himself to Heaven, but Sam managed to find him, and Cas brought them back to Bobby's house. He tried yelling, but was ignored. Sam wasn't angry, Bobby was scary-calm, and Cas just stood there glaring at him. What were they gonna do when the world burned down because they wouldn't let him say yes to Michael? A few moments later, Cas vanished, just saying that something was happening, without elaborating.

"What's up with him? He's... more of a dick than usual," Dean muttered. When Cas came back, he was carrying a body, which he dropped on Bobby's bed and then backed away from. He was staring at the person curiously, as they tried to figure out who it was. Dean recognized him, at the same time as Sam.

"That's our brother!" Their _dead_ half-brother, to be specific. Why the hell had Cas dug him up? Dean shot him a glance, and Cas frowned at him. But the guy was alive. What the hell was happening?

Their brother, Adam, had some of the answers – the angels had told him he was Michael's vessel. But that was Dean's job. Cas filled in the rest. "Maybe they're desperate. Maybe they _wrongly_ assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them."

Anger flitted through Dean, and he had to take a breath to calm himself so he wouldn't yell at the angel. _I know you think I'm letting you down damn it but I'm just trying to freaking help you. You could try to freaking understand, I've literally got the weight of the God-damn world on my shoulders here!_ "You know what? Blow me, Cas." He saw the angel's eyes twitch, undoubtedly trying to figure out what the hell that meant. The guy could read minds, so Dean held his gaze long enough to transfer the meaning. Then the angel looked away, clearly considering the thought and trying to decipher why the hell he would say that to him at a time like this. He didn't actually mean it, of course. Well, he wouldn't object to it, but not right now. They had a lot to figure out at the moment. If Dean was giving in to Michael, he wouldn't mind hate-sex with the angel before he left – there was literally no one else nearby who wasn't family, and he had nothing against Cas. _Could you stop thinking with your dick for five seconds, Dean? World's ending and you just wanna bang another angel._

Sam didn't think it was right that the angels were suddenly turning to Adam to be Michael's vessel. And he claimed there was another way.

"Great, what is it?" Dean was pleased to know that Adam was just as skeptical as he was about their brother.

"Well, we're working on the power of love," Dean said sarcastically, but he wanted to know what Sam's supposed plan was. He still wasn't explaining though, he just asked for some time. Which basically left him and Adam on lock-down. But they trusted Adam enough to let him roam around the house. Dean was locked in the panic room.

He was searching for ways to break himself out when the door opened, and Sam and the angel were standing in the doorway. His eyes passed over his brother to Cas, who shot him a glare. The way he did it reminded Dean of something, but he couldn't think of what...

"Well, Cas, not for nothing, but last time someone looked at me like that," he said when he realized what it was, almost laughing. "I got laid." Sam turned to see the angel's pissed off face, but Cas just continued to glare. Dean winked at him. _Take that as an invitation_._ Hate sex, anytime._ Sam told him to go and watch over Adam.

Dean was trying to think of ways to get out of this place, even as he admitted to Sam how he was sure Lucifer was gonna win him over. But it wasn't until Sam left that he figured out his genius plan. Sam would go, talk to Bobby about his feelings or whatever, but they needed someone to guard him. That someone, of course, would be Cas. The angel. The angel who had taught Dean how to get rid of an angel, if only for a moment. It would be long enough. He just had to get Cas to open the door...

He drew the sigil on the on the front of the empty wardrobe, then took a few random items and stacked them on a chair. Waiting until he heard Cas' footsteps on the stairs, he counted to three, and knocked over the chair with a loud _bang_, books thudding, the lamp shattering. Then he hurried and hid behind the open wardrobe door. He heard the angel rush towards the door, calling his name cautiously. Dean felt relief for half a second that Cas didn't sound at all angry for the first time all day, just concerned. Cas peered into the room and Dean's heart thumped nervously. He held his breath, realizing he might get out, if Cas fell for the distraction.

And he did. Dean heard the door creak open, Cas stepping into the room, going over to the chair to try and piece together what had happened. He didn't see Dean's hiding place, and then it was too late for him.

"Cas." Dean closed the door, placing his hand on the sigil and watching the angel vapourize. He didn't have long now, but he'd made it.

"

Dean one-upped the angel, but when he ran off, he made the stupid mistake of giving someone his real name, and Cas – who was keeping a radar out for the Winchester – told Sam he'd be back with his brother in a minute, flying to Dean's location immediately. When he saw him, he felt nothing but anger, betrayal. After _everything_, having _never_, for _one damn second,_ given up on Dean, the boy was just turning around and throwing in the towel now? Cas had a warrant on his head, had _already_ died and given up his grace for him, and he was throwing that all away?

"I rebelled for _this_?" he screamed, grabbing Dean by his jacket and throwing him against the alley wall. "So that you could _surrender to them_?" He translated all his anger into his punches, attacking Dean. He drew blood, and Dean begged him to stop, choking on it. Cas only hit harder. He was going to rip the son of a bitch to shreds.

It wasn't until a kick sent Dean flying into the fence at the end of the alley that he remembered Dean was _human_, and Cas was still as powerful as an angel. That's why Dean hadn't fought back from the first hit – because that alone had probably damaged him enough. But Dean, sprawled out on the ground as Cas kept coming forward, just stared up at him desperately.

"Do it," he told him, coughing out blood. _He asked you to. To not let him change, not let him give up. Beat the hell out of him to make him sane. It's what he wanted. And he's not gonna stop you._ "Just do it!" But Cas couldn't. He couldn't hurt Dean – at least, not more than he already had. He was afraid of Dean, afraid of him giving in to Michael, because he didn't know what that would mean for either of them, but he couldn't hurt him. Some small, stupid part of him still held on to his faith in the Winchester. He wanted so much for Dean to keep going, to give them one last chance, even though Cas himself didn't think there was another way. He just couldn't stop believing in Dean Winchester.

He took a final step forward, and raised a hand towards Dean, whose face twisted in anticipation. But Cas just knocked him out. He bent down and picked him up, lessening the damage of his wounds, because he was pretty sure several bones were broken. Cas got him to his feet and transported back to Bobby's.

"What the hell happened to him?" Sam asked, staring at his bloody, unconscious brother. _So much for a thank you._

"Me." He dragged Dean over to the bed and plunked him down unceremoniously.

"

When Dean woke up, chained down and back in the panic room, there was initially confusion. Hadn't he just broken out? But then the (painful) memories of the previous events returned to him.

Cas. Holy shit. He was the embodiment of rage. It was in the daggers in his eyes, the venom in his words, the deadliness of his punch. Seriously, how was he even alive right now? He was sure Cas was gonna kill him, or at the very least punch a hole right through him. But he freaking deserved it. He thought he'd let the angel down, but he hadn't realized just how pissed Cas was. Holy hell that guy could get angry. But Dean wondered if it had all been real. When he woke up, he felt sore as hell, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before. Had a week gone by? And why hadn't Cas finished him off? Could he possibly have stopped? Dean couldn't imagine Cas still cared about him after the shit he was putting him through.

And he was still considering saying yes to Michael. But now he was definitely thinking it over.

Sam, however, immediately said they were going to confront some angels. Including Zachariah. They'd taken Adam, and Cas knew where they were, so they were going to try and get him back. Dean wasn't sure if he was resolved enough not to just give in instantly. But they didn't have time, and it wasn't long before Cas was zapping them to the hideout. And he made it clear that he planned on taking out the five angels that were on guard inside.

"Isn't that suicidal?" Dean asked him, disagreeing with this plan. He was selfish enough that he didn't want to lose the angel. But Cas was finally thinking for himself, and didn't _care_ what Dean wanted.

"Maybe it is. But then I won't have to watch you fail." Cas' words surprised him, but why should they? "Sorry Dean, but I don't have the same faith in you that Sam does." That was worse than the beating he'd taken. He'd've gladly gone back to that alley rather than hear Cas tell him to his face that he'd finally lost him. After all this time taking advantage of him, Cas had finally realized he was being used, and now Dean was still being a selfish prick and Cas was sick of it. It hurt, but he'd had it coming for a damn long time.

The angel pulled a blade out of his pocket, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. _What are you doing? Damn it, why must you have such an attractive vessel? It's not helping anything!_ But Cas took the blade and cut a sigil into himself, explaining his plan. They just had to wait for a few minutes after he went in.

"Do you even know if that's safe? Carving yourself with one of those?"

"No, I don't," Cas said indifferently. _He hates me. And I deserve it, but that doesn't mean I like it. _

They let Cas go in, and a minute later, bright light emitted from the cracks in the door and they heard screams as Cas sent the angels and himself who-knows-where, and then silence. It was Dean's turn to go in, find Adam, draw out Zachariah. It worked, but the next part wasn't as planned. Zachariah anticipated Sam trying to sneak-attack him, and sent him and Adam writhing on the ground, making sure he got his one-on-one with Dean. And Dean, seeing his brothers dying, knowing that was the fate of the world if he kept saying no, gave in.

"The answer's yes."

Sam cried out, through his pain, but Zachariah ignored him, calling Michael. Dean stared at his brother, and something clicked in his mind. _That bastard brought me here. And now I'm gonna just let him down? Him and Cas and Bobby? I can't. Am I weighing their disappointment against the world? No. We'll find another way._

He stabbed Zachariah, right through his damn skull, but they didn't have time to get out before Michael got Adam. And they didn't have Cas either. If he'd vanished to the same place as the other angels, who knew if they'd ever see him again?

But even if they didn't, at least Dean hadn't let him down.

"

**AN: How about I update every Tuesday? (Except on Christmas. Sorry. I'll work around that one.) I'll probably finish season 5 in the next chapter (woo!), and we'll go from there. But Tuesdays, okay? (Yesterday's Tuesday, but today's Tuesday too! – Hey, look, Tuesday – chapter-in-a-poke. *I tried*) This way, you can expect an update those nights, and I know I have to have written by then. Okay? **

**The usual parting comments, thanks for reading, review with opinions. I love all who have read, favourited, commented – you people are amazing, thank you all. :)**


	12. Right Thing To Do

_**5x21-22 ("Two Minutes to Midnight", "Swan Song")**_

They returned to searching for ways to kill Lucifer without Michael – and without Cas, who didn't come back after they'd gone to meet Zachariah. Dean began losing sleep – as if he had that much to give up anyway – from worry, and fear of nightmares. He didn't know what had happened to the angel, but he figured if Cas was okay, he would have at least let them know. Otherwise, Dean hoped it was just Cas' social incompetence holding him back, and he'd forgotten that people liked to know if you were okay after you took on five angels and disappeared. It was possible. It was a lot better than the other option, that kept Dean on edge. If Heaven had caught up with Cas... Dean had seen the agonizing fright when the Whore had attacked him with some Heaven-like torture, and Cas had said it was what he was promised if they ever found him. It was worse than the torture in Hell, and Dean knew how bad that was. He couldn't _imagine_ worse. If that was where Cas was now, it was because of him – because Cas had been angry that he was giving up, and he didn't want to see them lose, and he'd stupidly stepped in there and let them take him. And it turned out Dean had made the right choice, so Cas was lost for nothing. So Dean just hoped Cas was just avoiding them, prayed that he was just pissed off – that would be better than him being in pain – and somewhere else in the world, looking for answers.

Dean kept all of this to himself, although his brother expressed some concern initially about the angel. The subject soon dropped, but it never left Dean's mind. He'd sent a lot of souls out of this realm, tortured hundreds in Hell, but this one – Cas' soul – he felt the most guilt over. Maybe because he'd let the angel down so damn much, after he'd been so unfleetingly loyal. Or maybe it was something more selfish – because now he had one less person defending his ass, one more reason he couldn't fall asleep at night. Lately, he'd thought he'd been sleeping better – less nightmares, an extra hour here and there, even though he couldn't explain why. Now he was wondering if Cas had been the cause, which would have pissed him off if Cas wasn't who-knows-where suffering because of him.

Cas finally called him. He was miraculously alive – in a hospital. Whatever had happened, he was full-on human now. And it was great to hear his voice, to find out that he wasn't angry at him at all, but... Dean felt the pain of what he'd done to Cas – because it was his fault he was this way now, in some far-off hospital, struggling like the rest of them had to. And Cas didn't even hate him for it, but he'd end up hating himself. _Why do I always do this?_ But all of Dean's guilting didn't prepare him for when he next saw the angel – or rather, the human. They met Cas' brother, Gabriel, who gave them a way to stop Lucifer – with the Horsemen's rings – and were working their way through the obstacles to get to Pestilence when they managed to find him. Like the other Horsemen, he put up a fight, that impaired them more than War or Famine had. They were knocked to the ground, unable to move, in immense pain from far-too-many sicknesses mixing into a stew of death in their bodies. No way they were getting out of this one. But, with their luck that was slightly beyond ridiculous, the door burst open and there stood Castiel in all his glory. Until he wasn't, at all, glorious. Pestilence asked him how he'd gotten there, which Dean wanted to respond, _He's an angel, what did you expect?_ But Cas answered that he'd taken a bus – _a bus?_ Why the hell would Cas need to take a bus? A second later, he fell to the ground, coughing out blood.

"Look at that – an occupied vessel, but powerless," Pestilence smirked. "Not a speck of angel in you, is there?" _Right_. He wasn't an angel anymore. The question hadn't been answered – how? How was that possible? Had Heaven ripped it out of him? Despite the fact that Pestilence's affect worked on Cas, he managed to get the man's ring from him before he vanished – the Horseman claiming it was "too late", he'd already gotten the Croatoan virus out – and then the sickness disappeared. They all stood, Dean taking the ring – three down, one to go. But he was preoccupied by the return of his not-angel friend.

"Cas, you're okay." _Sort of._ Dean was now faced with his friend who'd lost all his angelic power. He was completely human now – which was only one of Dean's greatest fears. The angel turning human, like he'd been in the future – and now he was going down that road. But how – he'd been slowly depleting, and now his powers were just gone? What had happened?

"I suppose you could say that. I've been better." The words reminded Dean of 2014-Cas. _"So you're human now? Welcome to the club." "I used to belong to a much better club."_ Cas didn't want to be a human, and now here he was. Dean didn't say anything more, but Sam – who could be so damn oblivious sometimes – kept up the conversation.

"So you're human now?" he asked. Receiving a small nod from Cas, he went on. "How'd that happen?"

"I don't know." Dean could tell he didn't want to talk about it, and hoped Sam would pick up on that cue. He did. "When I got out of the hospital, I called Bobby, asked where you were. Then I took the bus here."

Dean was just glad to have Cas back. Although he wasn't sure what the angel's – or, not-angel's – plans were if they won. Go back to Heaven and hope they'd take him in, or stick around with whatever was left of this family? Dean wouldn't turn Cas down – even human, he was useful. And Dean owed him that much anyways. He'd taken him from his home, he could provide a new one.

Bobby wasn't very supportive of that idea. Not that Dean shared the thought with him, or Sam, but just the way the old guy treated Cas made Dean wonder if he didn't like him very much. But then, it was Bobby, and he was hard to read. Clearly, though, he didn't care if Cas was an angel or an ex-angel or a worm on the ground – he wasn't taking any of his shit. When Dean asked Bobby if he had any good news, he warned them of Death's whereabouts in Chicago, and that millions of people were going to die. When Cas, oblivious as always and not knowing what sarcasm was – _note to self, teach Cas these things if we make it past the whole friggin' Lucifer ordeal _ – told Bobby he didn't "understand his definition of good news", Bobby responded with a sassy, snarky retort. And later, Bobby told him his "not-so-angel boyfriend" was "bitchin' about 'is holy probl'ms" and Dean needed to get a leash on him.

Unfortunately, Crowley showed up, and took charge of the situation, splitting up the group. He needed Sam, Bobby and Cas to go stop a shipment of Croatoan virus from going nationwide, while he and Dean went to meet up with Death and get his ring. The final ring, so they could stop Lucifer – or at least, they could try. It was literally the last thing they had to hope for. Dean would have preferred to be with Cas – or anyone besides the demon, but the teams were set. He didn't know if he'd see the remains of his family again – he was going against Death, he felt it was slim-to-none he'd make it out alive, but he'd do his best. He didn't say goodbye, to his brother, the man who was like a father, and his only friend. Because he had to believe he would see them again, even if he feared otherwise. It was the same as any mission – he didn't know what the other side would hold for him.

Crowley took him to Death, and then left him alone to fend for himself – none less than to be expected from a demon. But Death was in a friendly mood, and he gave the ring without trouble – he wanted Lucifer dead too. Did _anyone _want him alive? Seemed like the universe was against him, yet he was somehow still breathing. It didn't matter – Death's small price for the ring was that Dean let Sam die. He had to let Sam say yes to Lucifer, and then push him in his cage in Hell if he had to. That wasn't fair. Dean instinctively thought _no, no, no!_ But he knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't put Sam's life above the world. He'd been doing that for too long, and he knew he was the only one stopping them from stopping the devil. Sam was on board for dying, everyone was fine with it – well, not fine, but it's all the had – and Dean was the final nod. He wasn't sure he could do it, but when he got back to Bobby's, the old man convinced him to agree with the plan – to stop being selfish and just let them finally win.

Every fiber of Dean's being continued to tell him this was a bad, bad idea and they shouldn't be planning to go after Lucifer, shouldn't be packing, shouldn't be killing demons to get their blood for Sam, shouldn't be going to Detroit to meet the devil. But he didn't stop any of it from happening. Everyone kept watching him, probably waiting for him to crack, change his mind, turn back. But it wasn't his choice – it was Sam's.

"Dean." It was Cas. They hadn't had a whole lot of time to talk in the past few days, although Dean had wanted to. He wanted to know how he was holding up, and what he thought of everything. They had a moment alone, and Cas wasn't letting it go to waste. "I might not have angel-eyes anymore, but I can still tell something is wrong with you. And it's Sam – you're worrying about him. You don't want him going through with this. But you won't stop him."

"How d'you know that?" Dean assumed Cas had read is mind when he was an angel, but now... Was he that see-through?

"I'm learning," Cas told him, with the smallest of smiles. "Of all the humans, you're probably the most difficult to figure out. But when it comes to Sam – anyone could tell you care about him more than anything. You've been fighting everything that says to sacrifice him to Lucifer, _more_ than you've actually been fighting Lucifer. And now you're just letting him go. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it. I don't pretend to have a handle on you, Dean – I don't have a handle on much of anything anymore-" he chuckled sadly. "But in the past couple of years I've gotten to know you better than anyone else. God, or destiny, or just luck, sent me to you. I always believed in you, but I didn't just trust you without... doing my research. I know I've got a lot to learn, but... well, if we survive, I want to stay with you. There's nowhere else for me to go." Dean rarely heard Cas talk that much, but every word he said meant something to him. It told him Cas paid attention, he knew how Dean felt without him saying a damn word; and Cas was always his faithful soldier, and wanted to stay that way, because he couldn't sink any lower now. He was a human, because of Dean, and yet he still pledged his loyalty. He wanted to stay with Dean – maybe hunt with him, if Dean ever got himself together after losing Sam...

That was a low blow. The thought of Sam being _gone._ Dead. In Hell. With Lucifer. Did it get worse than that? It was doubtful. How was he supposed to move on from that? And what had he thought he was going to do? Bear it alone? He didn't want to burden Cas, though. He didn't want to do a damn thing to Cas, not again. Cas deserved better than him. But at the same time, he was all Cas knew, all he had. Maybe for the time, they could keep one another from drowning, and when they managed to get themselves together enough, they could go their separate ways. Dean didn't want to think about it at the moment. He didn't want to think about losing Sam, because that scared him more than anything. His whole life had been looking out for Sammy, taking care of Sammy. Now he was expected to throw him into Hell. Or let the world turn into Hell. The game wasn't fair, but that was life.

"Alright Cas. I'm not in control of your life either, y'know," Dean told him. "You can do whatever you want. If you wanna jump in there with Sam, you can. But I really wish you wouldn't."

"There's no need for me to." Of course, Cas would look at things from a practical and tactical point of view. _Seriously. Teach him about sarcasm. Guy can speak hundreds of languages, he needs to know this one too._

"

Detroit from Bobby's was a long drive – something a hunter was long used to. Cas, sitting in the backseat, didn't provide much chitchat, and at first Dean didn't notice that he'd fallen asleep. But then he heard gentle snoring, and glanced back to see him with his head rested on his shoulder, eyes closed. He looked so sweet and innocent. Dean wondered what he was dreaming about. What the hell did angels dream about? But Sam reminded him that Cas wasn't an angel anymore, which was sobering. What did _Cas_ dream about? Probably something boring... but no, Dean had to give him credit. The guy had been around and seen the whole world for thousands of years, he probably had some serious memory-storage. What images couldn't his mind conjure up? _Sex._ The guy had never had sex. Well, maybe he'd seen someone having sex. He probably wouldn't even look away or anything if he had, he was so damn awkward like that. Maybe he would get around to it now, being human and all. No one telling him what to do, with all those new urges to fulfil... He was a free man, he undoubtedly would get around to it. The thought didn't sit very well with Dean for whatever reason.

"Dean?"

Sam broke through, and began what he no doubt thought was his final speech. Dean sort of expected it to happen. Sam asking for one last thing, his dying wish – for Dean to not try and save him. To go live a normal life – his apple pie life with Lisa. He wanted to refuse – this wasn't part of the deal, he couldn't just leave Sam in Hell! – but he didn't really have much choice. It was what Sam wanted. He was sacrificing himself so the world could spin on – it was the least Dean could do in return. And even though watching Sam transform after downing gallons of demon blood, and turning himself in to Lucifer, pulled at every string in Dean's heart, he forced himself to stay resolved. But Sam lost. He couldn't pull Lucifer into the cage, and Dean didn't know what the hell to do. What was plan B? They didn't have one. It was left to the angels now. The showdown. He, Cas, and Bobby wandered around Chicago as Dean explained what had happened, but they stopped in front of a store where televisions showed _breaking news_ of another "natural" disaster.

"It's starting," Cas muttered.

"Y'think, genius?" Dean hissed.

"You don't have to be mean," Cas replied, a tad defensive, but mostly just hopeless.

"What do we do now?" Dean asked him. He didn't know. He couldn't think straight. Sammy was gone to Lucifer.

"I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol," Cas shrugged. "Just wait for the inevitable blastwave." Dean had forgotten that Cas was never one for good plans, and half the time seemed suicidal. Perks of being an angel. Dean asked him how they stopped it from happening, and Cas turned, looking frustrated but sympathetic. "We don't." Cas had nothing, Bobby was out of answers too. They hadn't prepared for this. They needed someone who knew something... Like, a prophet.

Like Chuck.

Dean was dialling the number before the thought fully processed. Chuck might know something! Chuck! He hadn't seen Chuck in a freaking long time – well, he'd seen him in the future. But Chuck! The guy was a prophet, he knew shit about stuff!

And he knew where the battle between Michael and Lucifer was happening – in Lawrence. Of all the places. Of course it was in Lawrence. As soon as Dean hung up, he started packing up the car, and then he saw Bobby and Cas approaching. Maybe it'd be better to leave them out. Maybe? Definitely. Of course they didn't want him to go, but he was already set in his mind.

"The only thing you're going to see out there is Michael killing your brother," Cas told him. As if that would stop him. _You don't know me as well as you thought, Cas._

"Then I ain't gonna let him die alone," Dean said, resolved. He was headed home.

"

Cas could see it in Dean's eyes the moment he came down from Lucifer's hideout alone – he hadn't given up yet. It was _pointless_, they _couldn't win_, but he just wouldn't stop fighting. And he was going to find some way to do something so he wouldn't feel like he'd just gave up hope on his brother. He was going to fight Michael and Lucifer.

He was going to die.

Dean didn't see anything wrong with what he was doing. Dying to try and save his brother, or dying because he had nothing else left. And Cas couldn't let it happen. Even though he was just a human who could hardly shoot a gun and had nothing backing him anymore, he had to help Dean, because that was all he knew these days. He had to fight for the life he wanted, because it was the only life he could have now. It wasn't optional. Or, it didn't look that way to him. With Dean gone, Cas needed to find a way to get to where he was going. And when Bobby figured out his plan, he was adamant.

"Castiel, you're as stupid as those boys! You ain't going after them!"

"I _have_ to, Bobby," Cas replied without any anger. He was just stating a fact.

"Wha'didja just tell Dean? Ain't no point to it! Yer just gonna get yourself killed like them!" Bobby cried. Cas ignored it. "You all just wanna die, don'tcha? Damn it, boy, you listen to me! It's too late for Sam, and you can't stop Dean-"

"But I can't let him just die, either," Cas told him severely. "Do you understand that, Bobby? I won't let him just _die_. I fell from _Heaven_ for him, I'm not backing down now."

Bobby stared into Cas' eyes, trying to dig out the situation, trying to make sense of it all. He could see the intensity burning there, and knew there was nothing he could say. "Idjit," he sighed. "Shouldn't'a fallen, boy. Not for him." Cas didn't say anything. He didn't know how to answer. He wasn't sorry, he didn't regret it. Sure, there were things he didn't want – leaving Heaven, being hunted, becoming human, he'd never agreed to it, but he'd know it was gonna happen, and he'd done it anyway. Because he believed in Dean Winchester.

"Alright, boy," Bobby said finally. "Let's go."

"

Dean didn't feel afraid as he drove to Kansas, to his inevitable death. He didn't feel afraid as he pulled into the cemetery and saw his two brothers being possessed by angels, about to start the showdown of the millenium. He didn't even feel afraid as Michael began walking towards him, undoubtedly planning on killing him right then and there.

He _did_ feel afraid when Cas came out of Goddamn nowhere and threw a bottle of holy fire at Michael, forcing him to disappear. _Shit Cas!_ It took him a moment to process what Cas had said. _"Hey, assbutt!"_

"_Assbutt?_" What kind of a lame friggin' insult was _assbutt_? Dean admired the hell out of him for what he'd just done, but _assbutt?!_ The look on Cas' face said it all, clearly wondering what Dean wanted from him. Dean would've laughed if it wasn't such an immensely serious moment.

"Did you just molatov my brother... with holy fire?" Lucifer hissed, glaring at Cas.

Cas backed away nervously. "Uh... no..." It would've been adorable if Dean wasn't standing a few feet away from Lucifer and could _feel_ the rage boiling off him.

"_No one_ messes with Michael, but me." Lucifer held up his hand, snapping his fingers, and Dean watched as right before his eyes, Cas exploded. And he realized nothing had changed. Whether intentionally or otherwise, he'd led his friend into the battle, and he'd died for no damn reason, just like in the future. Sam had said yes. Dean was no doubt going to die. Little details altered, same end result. He buried the burning pain of loss, his final friend _gone_, because they still had the devil standing right there.

And he was going after them now. He attacked Dean, and, with his back turned, Bobby shot at him with the Colt. Useless, of course. Lucifer snapped Bobby's neck.

Three down. One to go. Dean's death was planned to be the most painful. He thought Cas was strong. But an archangel, he made Cas seem like an baby. He thought he was dead after the first hit, but it never stopped.

And then it did. Lucifer stopped – _Sam_ stopped him. He'd gotten control, he'd beaten the devil. Without wasting time, he opened Lucifer's cage, and was just about to fall in when Michael returned. He tried to stop Sam, but Sam pulled him in too. Dean didn't understand it all – it happened too fast – but it all came together. They'd won.

Everyone was dead, but they'd won.

Dean didn't know how long he sat there before he felt someone else's presence, and he glanced over his shoulder, no idea what to expect. Cas was certainly not who he'd thought would be there.

"Cas – you're alive?" Dean asked through his puffy lips. He could only see out of one eye, his face swollen and beaten and broken. But Cas held up his hand to his forehead, and then the pain was gone.

"I'm better than that," he told him as Dean was healed. _How the hell... _Cas had been human... and then he'd been dead... He'd died so many times, it didn't make sense...

Dean stood slowly as a thought dawned upon him, and he took the man in the trench coat in. "Cas... are you God?"

Cas gave a slow, sincere smile, truly amused. "That's a nice compliment, but no. Though I do believe he brought me back." He proceeded to revive Bobby, and they all had a moment to let everything just sink in. They'd won, and Sam was gone. But they'd won.

Dean didn't cry. He wouldn't let himself, because he knew Sam wouldn't want him to. He got in the Impala, joined by the new and improved angel, and just drove, trying to think of all the happy memories he had with his brother. Cas didn't force anything, just waiting for him to speak if he wanted to. It took him hours until he felt assured he wouldn't start crying if he opened his mouth.

"What are you gonna do now?" he asked the angel.

"Return to Heaven, I suppose," Cas answered.

"_Heaven_?" But... Cas had said he would stay. Dean needed him to stay, mess with his mind for all he cared – take away the nightmares, make him forget his brother was caged in Hell with the devil, just be a friend to make things a little bit less horrible.

"With Michael in the cage, I'm sure it's total anarchy up there," Cas explained calmly.

"So, what? You're the new sheriff in town?"

Cas laughed slightly. "I like that. Yeah, I suppose I am."

"God gives you a brand new shiny set of wings, and suddenly you're his bitch again." When Cas had thought God had given up on him, and he'd gone through his own hell because of it... Dean had thought, and hoped, Cas wouldn't go back to him. Was he jealous? Maybe. Cas was the greatest soldier you could ask for, and, even if it seemed hard to believe, a good friend too. But now he was just going right back to the place he'd been running from, as if nothing had ever happened. As if they'd never hurt him, tortured him, wanted to kill him...

"I don't know what God wants," Cas returned coolly. "It just... seems like the right thing to do." _The right thing to do? The damn right thing would be to stay here!_ "You're angry." Cas met his eyes and he felt the mojo-that-wasn't-actually-mojo flurrying in his mind, but he pushed past it. He didn't have Sam. Cas could say all he wanted because he'ds _got_ what he wanted. But Dean? He got nothing. "You got what you asked for, Dean," Cas told him. "No Paradise, no Hell. Just more of the same.

"I mean it, Dean. What would you rather have – peace, or freedom?"

And with that, the angel was gone with his life. And Dean knew he was never coming back.

"

**Welp. Cries. Just, Cas leaving... and then he changes and no no no no. Okay anyways. So I realize this chapter was pretty short, but I have reached the end of season five! I won't be writing next Tuesday (being Christmas) but I will write at least a chapter or two over the holidays so you won't be totally left out. Enjoy your holidays, I'll hopefully update before the new year. Also, best of luck with the apocalypse on Friday – good thing Sam and Dean have taught us how to stop those kinds of things. Happy Tuesday! :)**


	13. At War

_**06x01-3,5-7 ("Exile on Main St.", "Two and a Half Men", "The Third Man", "Live Free or Twihard", "You Can't Handle the Truth", "Family Matters")**_

**Note: I pulled down this chapter so I could add in a scene, which I marked with asterisks. ***

Dean spent months thrashing through nightmares, burning in the memories of Hell and imagining his brother in his place, drowning in the tears mixing in with the excessive alcohol. His routine was full of late nights and old books and the ever-constant pain. It never stopped. It never eased. Sometimes, when he looked at Ben, he could see Sam, his little brother, and that didn't help at all. Lisa did her best to make things easy for him, and he was grateful. They were the best option for him now – and Sam's dying wish; he'd wanted Dean to go to them, and how could Dean say no? – but he still couldn't help but wish he could give it all up, just get his brother back. He was trying – he never stopped trying to find a way, but there was nothing. You couldn't just waltz into the deepest parts of Hell and open the most securely locked cage that happened to contain the Devil. Sam was stuck in there, with two archangels who were smouldering with rage, and he was undoubtedly their punching bag. An eternity in the worst Hell to ever exist. Every single night, Dean remembered his baby brother, saw memories like photographs, little clips of the happiest moments with him. His bright smile, lighting up the world, and then being consumed by darkness, smoke and black flames. Screaming bloody murder, and it never stopped. Even when Lisa would shake him awake, and his heart would be thumping against his chest painfully, his stomach twisted and acid burning in his throat – even when that all finally went away and he could calm down, the pain would never stop for Sammy.

After a while, Dean managed to explain some things to Lisa – he knew he owed her that for how terrible he was, how he was screwing up her life. He didn't tell her everything, just that he was a hunter, they'd managed to stop the apocalypse, and Sam was dead. There were some things that he felt she didn't need to know. Like Cas. He told her about how an angel had fallen from Heaven to help them, but that was about all. He wasn't sure why, but he decided he was suffering that one in silence. The angel's disappearance, although not nearly as damaging as Sam's death, still punched a hole in him. He told himself to let go, but he still thought about him. He didn't pray, didn't call – he refused to allow himself to. Cas probably didn't really care about him anymore – maybe he never had – and had gone back to being Heaven's bitch anyway, so he likely wouldn't answer if Dean did need him. It would've been nice to have him around though, to have just one less thing to have lost. But that was something he buried deep, and Lisa didn't have to hear about it.

From what little she did know, though, she told him it must have been quite a thing to have an angel rebel against Heaven for a human – although it had been for the whole planet, not just Dean. But Cas, he'd been loyal to Dean, and when Dean thought about it, he realized the damn angel really must have cared a hell of a lot, for what he did. Killing his own kind, taking his own first steps out of Heaven's control, turning on Zachariah and Uriel and the rest of the angels to help the humans. Living in hiding, being afraid and hunted down by all of Heaven, and feeling their wrath in the most horrible form of torture. And worst, dying, more than once, and losing his grace – becoming human against his will, something that had been it's own kind of torture. Giving up on himself in the end, but never losing hope in Dean. There were times when it had come close, but he never fully thought Dean was a lost case. He'd given up on destiny, and decided to write his own story. He'd given up on his father, on _God,_ and decided to fight for someone else. And it was Dean. Because _Dean asked him to._ It was some crazy kind of love – you couldn't look at it any other way. Cas loved him. Not saying he was in love with him, but he just... loved him. And Dean felt where that love had been, and how it was now lost, and he couldn't tell Lisa about it. She couldn't patch that up. She knew enough, and didn't think he was crazy, so that was nice, and he didn't need anything else from her.

Months later, he managed to simmer down on the alcohol intake level, get a job in construction. Anything to pass the time, make the money – since he had to now, he wasn't living on the road; it was an unusual adjustment, after a lifetime of being a hunter. What was more strange was not constantly having to watch his back, not having to leave town, not having to scope out the freak accidents or pretend to be a fed. He was just regular joe Dean Winchester now. The only contact he had with his old life was an occasional call to Bobby, just to say hello. The old guy was still pretty busy, but he would always take time to answer the phone for Dean, which Dean appreciated. They didn't talk about Sam – that was a topic that was untouched, always, with everyone – but they updated each other on what was happening in their lives, what idiot hunter was messing things up on Bobby's end, what construction worker was screwing his shirt to a board on Dean's side. They kept things lighthearted and empty, just glad to hear each other's voices.

He would be lying if he said, nearly a year later, that things were getting better. It seemed to be improving from the outside, but every breath still raked in his throat, every movement clawing at his heart, every thought pinned with the reminder that _Sam is in Hell and you can't save him_. This life wasn't filling the vast cavity his old life had left. He still wanted to be a hunter, in a weird way, and that stayed just in the corner of his mind. But nothing came along to his town. Demons, monsters, everything stayed away. Maybe he was horrible enough for this town. One day, though, he thought he found something, a trail. Some sort of monster, but he couldn't be sure. But then he was faced with Azazel, yellow-eyes, the demon he'd killed years ago. How the hell was he possibly back? That couldn't be real...

It wasn't. Reality had gotten much stranger. Somehow, he'd been poisoned by a djinn. Not that he'd been in any creepy cave-like, djinn-dwelling places lately, but apparently the djinn were acting out, as well as other creatures. And that, of course, was weird and messed up. But the fact that Dean got this information from his living, breathing brother, just made it all seem impossible.

He'd thought he'd been hallucinating when he saw Sam sitting there. It _couldn't_ be him. But Sam assured him that he was quite real, quite alive. No idea how he'd escaped Hell, but he'd gotten out about a year ago. And he'd never come for Dean, the whole time. That hurt Dean, a lot, because he'd gone through a hell of a lot of suffering thinking _Sam_ was going through Hell suffering, but the fact that he apparently had hardly been in Hell at all eased so much of the pain; it just disappeared, like it was never real. Because, really, it hadn't been – Sam hadn't actually been in the pit this whole time, so all Dean's worrying had just been imaginary, which was a pain, but more, a relief. Sam was back, and they could be back on the road, back to hunting, whatever it was, just being together again. But then, there was Ben and Lisa. What, _Sammy's home, so things are all better_? Dean couldn't just leave them, and have them think he was just using them as a crutch. He cared about them, loved them. They were sort of like a family – nothing compared to Sam, but still, they had a piece of him now. There was no just throwing that away. Sure, when it came down to it, he would probably choose Sam over anyone, but if he didn't have to make the choice, he wanted to somehow keep all of them. But could he? Was that possible? He couldn't imagine having a normal life while being a hunter. That wasn't a thing.

When the djinn attacked at their house, Dean decided maybe he shouldn't go back to hunting – it was dangerous to his new "family". And Sam had picked up some new people along the way – more hunters. He called them family too, but they were just strangers. Except for Samuel Campbell, their grandfather who Dean had seen die – he'd been brought back just like Sam, and they also didn't know how that had happened. But now Sam was working with this Campbells, and seemed content with it, and they didn't seem overly fond of Dean. He just felt out of place with those people. So he decided to stay where he was already somewhat comfortable, rather than throw himself into some strange situation. But, just a week later, he got an urgent call from Sam, who needed Dean to help on a hunt, and when Dean returned home, Lisa told him he should go – she knew he wanted to. And honestly, he could feel it scratching in him – he _did_ want to get back to hunting. He was glad she'd told him to, instead of him being the one to leave them.

Getting behind the wheel of the Impala immediately confirmed that this was the best thing he could have done, and he should've done it a year ago. Man, he'd missed his baby. But he was there now, and Sam had his crappy car so things weren't quite the same, but it was good. And they were working with other people, but Sam and him decided to track a few things on their own, so that was great. They got back into their groove, although things didn't seem as tight as before – Sam was a little off, but there were lots of explanations for that; he'd gone to Hell, he was hanging out with other hunters who could've been rubbing off on him, and Dean hadn't been hunting for a while so maybe things were a bit out there too. It was alright though, because Dean was just so glad to be hunting evil shit with his brother. That was all he could ask for.

They'd been on the go together less than a month when Sam found a particularly odd case. A police officer who had been liquified, and another who'd been coated in boils – including in his throat – both (obviously) killed somehow. Soon after, a third police man died when his brain was eaten by locusts. This was beginning to turn into Biblical plague central, and for the first time in a year, Dean prayed to Cas. It was comfortable, natural, and long overdue. The night after he'd found out Sam had got back, Dean considered calling the angel, but figured he wouldn't – he should be grateful he had Sam, did he really need everything? But now, he had a reason – he refused to think of it as an excuse – for the angel to show, because this was Bible territory, and Cas majored in that area. And, though Sam assured him Cas wasn't answering the phone, Dean tried. He prayed, out loud and in his head, focused really damn hard, and opened his eyes to see... nothing. No man in a trench coat to be seen. But then, there was the sound of air being beaten by wings, and he was there.

It was probably rude, but Dean just stared. Often times, time will start to erase memories, and you forget certain things about people or things. Like, after a long winter, how nice it feels to have the sun's rays licking your skin and leaving behind a pleasant warmness. Or, when you go to a library for the first time in ages and all you can hear is the quiet sound of pages turning as people absorb the knowledge and stories and wonderful things that books contain. Or when you meet an angel and convince him to help you stop the apocalypse, but then he goes back to Heaven for a year and you forget how magnificently stunning angels are, how they radiate some sort of beautiful pureness and goodness. A little piece of Heaven inside a human body, and it touches everything around it. And Dean was quickly smacked with that angelic ball of sunshine.

"Hello." Sam certainly wasn't impressed, but Dean sure as hell was amused. Just a casual hello, as if he'd only been gone five minutes. But then, he was an angel – a really freaking old angel – and a year probably didn't mean that much to him. Over that year though, Cas had changed too. Everyone was different now, and Dean knew he wasn't an exception. But Cas... he sort of was the same way as when they'd first met (not that Dean wanted to stab him this time). He was a soldier again. Maybe not _as_ bad as back then – he dropped little bombs, like when Sam asked if he liked Dean better and he told him, "Dean and I do share a more profound bond", which Dean found funny because if they had this "bond", wouldn't Cas have considered dropping in during the year? Maybe telling him that his brother was alive? And then Cas did a one-eighty, and was suddenly telling Dean, "You think I came because _you_ called?" and Dean wasn't sure what the hell the angel was to him anymore. Too complicated to figure out.

No, Cas had come for the Staff of Moses, and to find out who had stolen weapons from Heaven. An angel who Cas thought was dead named Balthazar. Angels were stealing weapons? What was going on up there? According to Cas, civil war. Him versus Raphael, to see who would rule the Kingdom in God's absence. Crisis averted back on Earth, chaos ensued in Heaven. More guilt for Dean. It was endless dominos with him and Cas – because of him, Cas' life seemed only to be getting worse. Now his home, his family, were warring with each other. _Try not to think about it, Dean. It's not like you can stop it. Just help the damn angel when you can._

Except, after the Staff of Moses incident, Dean didn't see Cas again for weeks, and he started having bigger issues. That being, Sam. Something was wrong with him, and it wasn't just little things. Dean was afraid of him, got chills around him, felt uncomfortable being near him. It just didn't feel like Sam. Something was really, really off, in a bad way. Dean asked him about it over and over, but he said he felt fine. But things started to turn for the worse when Dean was nearly turned into a vampire, and Sam just stood and watched it happen. Almost as if he wanted Dean to get turned, so he could lead them to the vampire's nest for information on the alpha vamp. Because, although Dean didn't know at the time, their grandfather had a cure for being turned, as long as you took it before you drank human blood. Sam claimed innocence, not knowing about this cure and not trying to get Dean hurt, but the trust was broken a bit between them.

Dean didn't know what else to do other than call Cas. Maybe this had nothing to do with the war upstairs, but he hoped just maybe he still meant _something _enough to the angel that he would take the time to come help anyways. Cas knew more about these kinds of things than Dean or any hunter he'd ever known, so it was his opinion which held the highest value right now.

*He happened to find a good time when he stumbled upon the discovery of a possible weapon of Heaven. Already for a while, he'd started praying to Cas again, for information on Sam. But Cas had ignored him, and it was starting to get painful, because he needed someone to help him out of this mess. _What do you expect, Dean? Like he weighs you above his kingdom._ And it was worse, when Cas came down for some item, but not to Dean's aid. It was a stab in the heart – just like when they'd first met, although the roles were reversed now – and Cas didn't seem affected by it at all.

Dean had just finished his drink, and was calling to Cas as he went to refill the glass, when the angel showed.

"Hello, Dean," he said softly. Dean wanted to ring his neck. As if he thoughts he could just be nice and that would let him off the hook. But he seemed adamant on trying. "You asked me to be here," Cas told him, eyes wide and full of innocence. "And I came." He seemed to shrink at Dean's advance. Like a child, he knew what he'd done wrong, but he still tried to cover it up. Dean liked to think he sort of knew the angel, and thought he was sorry, but that didn't mean much to him at the moment.

"I've been asking you to come here for days, you dick!"

Cas stared, slightly fearful. And then Dean was reminded of how Cas was the only person other than Sam whose puppy-dog eyes worked on him. Probably because he didn't even try to – he likely didn't even know what it meant. Well, maybe. Angels weren't supposed to be ones for deceiving, but they could likely pick up on the cues. "I didn't come about Sam, because I have nothing to offer about Sam."

"Well, that's great. For all we know, he's just gift-wrap for Lucifer!"

"No, he's..." Cas paused, taking the bottle Dean had been headed for earlier, knowing Dean wanted it, and popping the lid. "He's not Lucifer." He hesitantly moved forward, and Dean wasn't sure what his intent was, but he felt the tension between them. They were verging on an invasion of personal space, although it wasn't nearly as close as it used to be. Cas seemed to be avoiding getting too close to him lately, and it might have been because he'd finally learned his lesson, but he almost felt like Cas was afraid to, like he was hiding something and Dean would figure it out if he got close enough.

"How do you know that?" Dean prodded.

In response, Cas held up the bottle, offering to refill Dean's glass. He met Dean's eyes as he answered. "If Lucifer escaped the cage, we'd feel it." So it was an angel thing. Great, but that didn't put a dent in the Sam issue.

"What is wrong with him?" Dean asked, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"I don't know, Dean," Cas said sadly. "I'm sorry." He sounded sincere, but Dean felt like he didn't really care that much. Like he really just wanted to find that horn and get out of there. Sam wasn't the only one who'd seen changes in the last year. Cas was different too.

"What happened to you, Cas?" Dean whispered. He was afraid. He didn't need the angel changing on him too. He already had enough to deal with. "You used to be human, or at least like one."

Dean watched as Cas' eyes left his, gaze falling to the floor. "I'm at war," he answered quietly. He turned his back, leaning against the table. "Certain... regrettable things are now required of me." That was vague. _Was_ Cas hiding something from him? He couldn't even look him in the eye to say that... Clearly, the war was taking it's toll on Cas. How many angels had he killed, how much damage had he done? Without even seeing his face, Dean could tell he was struggling, but he had no idea how to help him. So he returned to the original topic.

"Gabriel's horn of truth – is that a real thing?"

"You've seen it?" Cas turned back, renewing his focus.

"We think it's in town, something's forcing people-" Dean's eyes had been trailed on the angel, but then there was just air. Cas didn't care about reason, about a damn word he had to say. He just wanted his nukes and wanted to get the hell out. "You're welcome!" Dean shouted at nothing, taking the last gulp of his drink. He heard the wings, and turned to see the man in the trench coat standing there again.

"It isn't the horn of truth," he informed Dean.

"What are you talking about?" Dean wondered. "You were gone for like, two seconds, where did you look?"

Cas frowned. "Everywhere." Of course. Angel. They did shit like that.

"Right. Well, nice seeing you anyway," Dean muttered coldly. He knew the angel wanted to go. His human attachments were the only things holding him up.

"Dean."

"What?" Why was he still here? What about this pathetic human was compelling him to stay? _Just leave, I know you want to._

"About your brother. I..." Cas hesitated, probably hoping Dean would turn around and face him. He didn't. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but I do want to help. I'll make inquiries." So he wasn't totally lost. Dean still had part of the angel under his power. It was only somewhat of a comforting thought.*

It was not a day later Dean called Cas back again, after Sam admitted he'd let Dean almost get turned into a vampire, that he wasn't Sam, and he knew it. Something had gone wrong when he'd gotten out of Hell.

_This is important, Cas, please. I...I need to know what's wrong with Sam, and you're the only one who can help me._ There was the soft sound of the angel's wings, and Cas appeared. Dean had Sam locked in a hotel room, unconscious.

"What is it, Dean?" Cas asked, sounding a bit unimpressed.

"If I'm dragging you away from something, don't let me hold you up-"

"I'm _at war_, if you recall, Dean," Cas said snappily. "Now what do you want?"

Dean decided that he long had the attitude coming. He'd certainly given Cas enough shit to deserve a little coldness back. Still, he tried to excuse Cas, blaming the stress of the war for why he was so heartless, but maybe Heaven had already converted him back to the old Cas. It wouldn't really surprise Dean – they'd only been together about a year, not long for angel-time, and they'd probably slipped him back into his routine. Or maybe they'd tortured him back to normal. Either way, he felt like the angel was just as gone as Sam.

"I just want my brother back." Cas' expression softened, and Dean dropped his gaze, feeling pathetic. He probably sounded like a child to the angel, but it was true. He just wanted Sam to be Sam again.

"You don't have any idea what's wrong with him?" Cas wondered, harshness gone from his voice. Dean glanced back up, catching a glimpse of the angel he used to know – the one who was a human, not a soldier. The one who cared about him. Dean shook his head in response to Cas' question, and nodded at the door.

"Sam's in there," he said. "It's bad... horrible. I sort of beat the hell out of him."

Cas slid into the room, just as Sam became conscious. "You're right – he looks terrible." He glanced him over, then shot a brief look towards Dean. "You did this?" He sounded bemused, maybe not quite believing Dean was tough enough to do that kind of damage. Or maybe, he just thought Dean couldn't hurt Sam like that. Then Cas started asking questions: "Has he been feverish? Speaking in tongues? How much do you sleep?" Sam didn't seem to enjoy being diagnosed, but he answered the questions as they were thrown. He told them he wasn't sleeping, at all. Even Dean knew that meant something was wrong.

"Sam, what are you feeling now?" Cas shot.

Sam scoffed. "I feel like my nose is broken."

"No," Cas disagreed. "That's a physical sensation. How do you _feel_?"

"I think-"

"_Feel._"

Sam didn't answer for a moment, seeming to be concentrating on the question but having no answer. "I don't know," he finally concluded. With that, Cas took off his belt and rolled up his sleeve, offering the belt to Sam, telling him to bite down on it.

"This will be unpleasant," Cas warned, and he reached inside Sam's body. Dean watched as Sam writhed, and wondered what could be wrong inside of him. He asked Cas, and got an answer he'd never anticipated. "It's his soul," he explained. "It's gone."

Sam's soul. Missing. Gone. Why Sam wasn't Sam. Why he was emotionless and cold and terrifying. Because he didn't have a soul. It didn't compute with Dean.

"I- I'm sorry," Dean said, trying to figure out if he'd heard the angel wrong. He had to have. "One more time, like I'm five – what do you mean, he's got no-"

"Somehow, when Sam was resurrected, it was without his soul." _No five year old would understand that, Cas. _But he _had_ said Sam was soulless, Dean wasn't hearing things. What did that mean? Where was it? Cas guessed it was still in Hell. Without his soul, he wasn't even Sam anymore, was he? He was just a shell... Dean couldn't live with that. He needed Sam to be _all_ Sam.

"Well then, just get it back," Dean ordered Cas.

"Dean," Cas said, half argumentatively, half sympathetically.

"You pulled me out," Dean insisted. Just getting a soul back – Cas could do it, right?

But Cas said no. Sam's soul was in Lucifer's cage, unlike where Dean had been. "There's a difference – a big difference: it's not possible." Dean couldn't deal with this empty Sam though – he wasn't even the same person. He might look like him, and have his memories, but it wasn't Sam. He tried to reason out ways to find Sam's soul, and knew they needed to find whoever it was that had brought him back. Of course, Sam didn't know, so they decided to go to Samuel, who'd been resurrected at the same time, and maybe had some clues to help them out.

It was almost funny, when Samuel met Cas, that he said he was "scrawnier" than he'd imagined, and Cas proceeded to tell him that, unlike his vessel, his true form was the size of the Chrysler building. Dean felt a flurry of excitement and attraction, like in the old days before everything had been so messed up, and all they had to worry about was the world ending – ha. Dean didn't know how he'd ever thought of things like love or sex or whatever back then, when he didn't even want to worry about it _now_. Not when Lisa had told him he shouldn't come home anymore, and Sam was soulless, and he had no family whatsoever left. He felt very alone. Maybe that was all the more reason to want someone. He thought this over as Castiel checked their grandpa and confirmed that he did indeed have a soul, and it was just Sam who was empty. Then, as they explained how Sam was missing a piece to Samuel, Dean noticed Cas staring out the window pensively.

"Sam, Dean," he announced quietly. "I have to get back."

What? He hadn't even been there that long. "You're leaving?"

Cas turned to him, and Dean figured any human would at this point be rolling their eyes. The angel probably didn't understand that function. "I'm in the middle of a civil war." Yeah, he kept reminding Dean of that. But Sam... Cas was one of the best shots they had, he couldn't just leave them with this broken would-be Sam.

"Find something to help Sam." _You said you would._

"Of course," Cas said, and Dean couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Your problems always come first. I'll be in touch." Alright, maybe Dean took advantage of him... a lot. But hopefully he would still do what he could anyway.

Dean slowly began to sink back into his alcohol ocean. He wasn't very good with dealing with problems. He needed Sam to be fixed, and there was a war going on in Heaven that he didn't think would affect him, but it was. It was taking his angel – _Cas_; he didn't belong to Dean – away from them, and they needed all hands on deck when it came to the soul case. It was sucking the soul out of Cas, and it hurt Dean nearly as much as was Sam hurting him – though he wasn't allowing himself to focus much on it. He sort of wondered what things must be like up there, how an angel war worked. It was probably a lot flashier than a human war, but undoubtedly brutal. Angels were dying all the time, and at some point Dean realized that Cas could die too. He had a target on his back – he was the leader of one side, so he was the one half of Heaven was after. Everything was beginning to pile up – Sam, and then being booted out by Ben and Lisa, and now worrying about Cas. Dean might never see the angel again, and he would never know if he just didn't want to waste his time on them, or if he was dead. The prospect scared him. He didn't have other angel connections, but what was more troublesome than losing an angel, was losing a friend. He didn't have a lot of those either. Most people he came in contact with died, or went running in the opposite direction. And Cas had done both, and still came back. But apparently God was gone, so Cas wouldn't be coming back if he died now.

Dean didn't even care about the consequences the Earth would face if Cas died, and Raphael took over Heaven and rebooted the apocalypse. He just knew that if he hadn't started the apocalypse, hadn't asked Cas to rebel, Heaven wouldn't be in this situation, and Cas' life wouldn't be on the line. And he was beginning to wonder if the angel would ever be able to live peacefully again.

Dean wondered if _he'd_ ever go back to _his_ normal life too.

**So I managed to cover seven episodes in this. There wasn't a lot of Destiel in the first half of the season, I don't know if there'll be more in the last half. But since that's what my focus is, I might fit more episodes into chapters for this season. (Imagine season eight. Every episode will have it's own chapter, lawd.) Anyways, I greatly apologize for holding up for so long, everything will return to regular schedule now. Reviews always appreciated :) **


	14. Not Supposed to Talk About It

_**06x3, x10 ("The Third Man", "Caged Heat")**_

Castiel honestly didn't have time to be helping the Winchesters with... well, anything nowadays. He was so caught up in the hell he'd created in Heaven that the brothers' problems didn't hold a candle to it. But they didn't seem to understand the significance – and stress – of the war. He was leader of a battle he had never intended – yet he'd been the one who'd started it. Going against Heaven and destiny, falling and helping the humans stop the apocalypse instead of just letting it go as planned – this had been encouragement to the other angels to rebel against order and fate. With God far out of the picture, and now Michael, his right hand man, gone, it seemed sensible to give control over to Raphael, the next-in-line archangel. However, Castiel was uncomfortable with this idea – and he'd gained his own group of followers who also disagreed with Raphael's plans, which consisted of renewing the apocalypse, letting the story play out as intended. It was still difficult for Cas, not just waiting around for an order – being the one plotting and _giving_ the orders, thinking for himself and deciding what would be right and what would be wrong. One thing was for certain, he refused to allow the apocalypse. He wouldn't let the humans suffer anymore because of him or the rest of the angels. When things felt out of hand, and he wasn't sure what to do, he would think of what Dean would do – Dean, who was so certain of where he stood, who, even when he had no idea, always had something to fight for, and always knew exactly what that was. Sam, mostly. And just humanity in general. Now, Cas was fighting for them, the humans, because that was what he knew, and that was what was right to him.

He was doing what he could for Dean, too. Watching over him when he could – which wasn't very often, but Cas checked on him whenever he had a second. He brought Bobby back, and he even brought Sam back – although not entirely. It hadn't been easy accessing Lucifer's cage, and he'd done what he could, but it wasn't the same Sam anymore. Cas knew as he saw Sam return to Dean, and hesitate outside his door, and then leave without a word – it wasn't what Sam would do. Sam would've known the torture Dean went through wasn't worth it to get out of the hunting life – a life that he maybe not enjoyed, but it was all he knew, and what he wanted. Dean wasn't cut out for construction work – yes, he could do it, but that wasn't what he was supposed to be doing. Cas wanted to tell him – _your brother's alive, it's all okay_ – but he couldn't do it. He saw Dean like a broken vase, cracked beyond repair yet still trying to fix himself. He saw him picking up the pieces and puzzling them back into place, but there was too much lost, too many holes. Dean spent months in an alcoholic nightmare blaze, and Cas just wanted to be there for him. Stop the war, go down and take Dean to Sam. But he didn't. Because not once did Dean even try to pray to him. Not a word. "_Cas, please help"_, it never came. So Cas didn't either.

After a year, Cas could still tell that Dean wasn't in any sense alright, but things were maybe a little better. At least, they could have been worse. But then, Dean found himself being dragged back into his world after suffering from djinn poisoning and rescued by Sam. Cas figured it didn't mean much – really, it meant nothing to him, or should have meant as much – but it felt like a small victory. Even as the war went continually downhill for him, he took a moment to celebrate, sharing with himself a small smile. Still, Dean didn't try to contact him, and he thought maybe the man had forgotten him, or just stopped caring. The angels would hardly be tangling in their hair anymore – at least, hopefully not, if Cas' side won the war – so there was no reason for them to stay in touch. And they couldn't that much anyways even if Dean _wanted _to, what with the war going on and the Winchesters being thrown into a strange battle against Alphas and soullessness and constant whispers of Purgatory. They didn't know the significance. Cas wanted it to stay that way.

That was another thing. Everything Cas was doing, he felt like he was going behind their backs. Even though they weren't really in his story, they didn't control him, he knew some of his choices were ones they would scold him for. They were regrettable, and he hated it, but he was just doing the best he could with what he had. Demons – namely, Crowley. Trying to find entrance to Purgatory for power. Desperate times made him a desperate angel, even though his intent was good. He doubted Dean would care that he was trying to save their world when he was making deals with demons, something practically criminal in Dean's mind. Unforgivable. He was ashamed of himself and of the war in general. But they didn't need to know.

Hearing from Dean the first time was great. Not only was the information he obtained extremely beneficial, but the fact the Dean still cared about him was a good feeling. The Winchesters were Cas' only friends, really, Dean in particular. Since Sam wasn't really himself, Cas found it harder to connect to him, but Dean was still Dean. When Cas went down to them, he felt Dean staring, and at the same time he took in all the small changes that had occurred to the man. Physically, not too much. But he had matured more in the past year, having a family and a regular life and all the things most humans needed to be stable. Cas wondered how long it would take for Dean to fall back into his old rhythm, mould back into the hunter he'd been before, if ever. Maybe he would hold onto the things he'd picked up in the past year. What would that mean for the angel? Would it make Dean hate him more or less? Because he felt it was inevitable that Dean would find out about him, and whatever profound bond they had, however Dean valued him, would be gone. And it made Cas want to try that much harder to not lose him.

So Cas began helping, if only pretending to. He was the one to tell the Winchesters that Sam didn't have a soul. He promised to make inquiries, find out what he could to help them, despite being amidst a battle. They believed he was still making an effort to stay close to them – and he was, just not how they thought. And yes, they took advantage of him, but he let them. Because he had to, to keep them.

It was harder to put up with Sam. When Sam called claiming to have found the Ark of the Covenant, just to get him to see them, it aggravated Cas. He doubted Dean would've gone about it the way Sam had. But he reminded himself that it wasn't Sam, not really, and he had to keep the bond with his friends. They took him to the Campbell settlement, trying to find ways to find Crowley. But Samuel refused to help them, and they had to find ways on their own. Cas knew where Crowley was, but he couldn't let on too much, so he just waited it out while the brothers tried to think of something. He sat and watched TV, knowing it was a very human thing to do, and would make him seem normal – show them he still didn't think himself above humanity, through the small act. He tried to converse with them about the show, but Dean told him off.

"You're watching porn?" he chastised. "You don't watch porn in a room full of dudes. And you don't talk about it. Just turn it off." Maybe he wasn't doing so well. He didn't know _everything_ about humans and their odd rules about random things like this. He was just trying to do what he thought they did. And it upset and annoyed him that he couldn't even get something so simple right. On top of that, he felt a strange sensation go through him as he watched – sexual arousement. That was a new one. "And now he's got a boner." Again, Dean seemed to disapprove. Worse, Cas felt new urges – a requirement of sexual fulfillment. Fearing further condemnation, he didn't say anything, or ask for advice on what to do.

Samuel came in then, and noticed what was on the TV. "Is this what you boys do, sit around watching pornos with angels?"

Seeing an opportunity for slight redemption, and wanting to show the brothers that he'd listened to them, Cas uttered, "We're not supposed to talk about it." But his comment was more or less ignored as Samuel gave in and told them Crowley's whereabouts, and they made their way to it. Cas saw through Samuel though, knowing he intended to sell the brothers out to Crowley. He didn't stop it – he would appear to be on their side (because he was) to gain their trust. They were travelling with demons, which bothered Cas because he was already working with Crowley and he wasn't sure who knew about it and didn't need himself being exposed by them. One of them, Meg, was more or less a female Crowley – arrogant, pompous, one of the worst of her kind and Cas would've loved to smite her. He'd almost had the chance once, but unfortunately couldn't follow through. And now he could, but again wouldn't because the brothers were working with her and he needed their trust.

Cas was given his first real moment alone with Dean while they were packing for the hunt. For a while, they didn't say anything, and things seemed out of place with them. Cas knew he hadn't been overly kind to Dean lately, but he thought he'd understood why. War did that to people, even angels. But finally Dean broke the silence, suggesting that Cas could help him.

"I'm not sure retrieving Sam's soul is wise," Cas admitted to him. He explained how mangled Sam's soul undoubtledly was by this point, since Michael and Lucifer had unlimited access to it and were likely tearing it apart. How a soul like that could kill Sam if returned to him. But Dean was insistent as ever, and Cas didn't bother arguing much. He just gave him the facts and let him do what he wanted with it. And of course, Dean still went after Crowley.

It was all too easy. Cas got them inside without difficulty, and then they were stuck. Hellhounds on their tails, and the demons couldn't leave if they tried – they found out when Meg tried to book it and was stuck. It was almost funny to watch her squirm under the discomfort. But she had her uses – she could see the hounds, and hold them off. Sam offered her the demon-killing knife, but she told them to use it on Crowley. When Dean asked what she was going to use, she turned to Cas, and – stunning them all – kissed him, stealing his knife while he was distracted. And, despite her being a demon, some of the sexual attention he'd needed earlier was fed. He kissed her back, feeling better – and worse. Dean's eyes burned on him, and he couldn't help but remember the time he'd watched Dean kiss Anna. At the time, there was maybe a spark of something – a mix of anger and sadness – but in hindsight, the feeling had grown, for whatever reason. He considered this some form of payback, as well as another way to cement the Winchesters' trust. If he was willing to work with the demon this much, he was still reliable.

They were making their way through the building, when suddenly Cas felt himself being ripped off the Earth.

"

Dean could sense that an ambush was on it's way as too simply they walked right into Crowley's lair. He was proven right when hellhounds were set on them, and, in the small time they had to regroup before the hounds got through the door, Dean was given a great surprise. He watched as Meg kissed the angel, and then Cas right away returned it. He was speechless. It wasn't far from obvious that Meg kept flirting with Cas, which pissed Dean off because she disgusted _him_, and she didn't deserve the right to even look at an angel. Yet her she was, cocky and bold and worthy of being punched in the face with a chair, _kissing_ the poor guy. But it scared Dean when Cas returned the gesture. It suggested to him that something was up with Cas, but he literally had _no_ lead as to what the hell would make him have any desire to kiss a freaking demon.

Moments later, they lost the angel, as Samuel sent him who-knows-where with a sigil. Samuel had sold them out to Crowley. And now they were screwed. Locked up, but somehow Sam managed to break out, and then they were following the screams of Meg, searching for the girl and her knife. They still needed her to torture answers out of Crowley. But Dean would've felt better with Cas backing them. _Oh well. He's disappeared somewhere. He'll come back when he can. If he wants._ He would, right? He wouldn't just desert them and go back to his war? Well, he'd come this far, Dean wanted to believe he'd finish the job. Just... Cas was so preoccupied lately, with his war. It was understandable, but still hard for Dean to agree with. The angel wasn't just on demand anymore. _Focus on the problem, Dean._

They lured Crowley right into a Devil's trap, and began interrogating, with Meg's powers being very convenient.

"I want my soul back," Sam told Crowley.

"I can't!" Crowley groaned as Meg tortured.

"Can't or won't?" Sam hissed.

"I said 'can't'," Crowley answered. "I meant 'can't', you mop-headed lumberjack. I was lucky to get this much of you out." This was why Dean hated demons – because they were always sloppy and only did the bear minimum. Sam wasn't Sam without his soul, but Crowley had brought back his body, which was technically Sam's. Always a loophole. But Crowley was of no use now, and they let Meg kill him. Except he got her first, using the knife to break the trap and pinning the brothers.

_Damn demons._ They were lucky. Cas appeared at that moment, and Dean was glad. He _hadn't _abandoned them. Better, he'd found Crowley's bones, and as they watched he burned them. Crowley disappeared at the same time as Meg. And then there were no demon buddies. And at least one of them was dead.

"I was gonna kill her too," Dean said. If he saw her again, he would. If not, hopefully she was on Crowley's men's radar now, and she'd be screwed over soon enough. He remembered Cas and Meg's intimate moment earlier. "'Course, I'd have given you an hour with her first."

"Why would I want that?" Cas frowned, and Dean smiled at the expression of confusion he'd grown used to before. He missed the angel not getting all his references, and being so innocent. Times were so simple then. Just an apocalypse to deal with, the usual. And the fact that Cas couldn't fathom why he'd need any time with the demon was a bit of a relief. Dean really didn't want Cas growing feelings for that bitch.

Cas zapped them out to the Impala, and Dean gave him a smile. "Thanks, Cas. Hadn't it been for you-"

"Crowley was right," Cas interrupted. "It's not going well for me upstairs." This was one of the first times Cas was confessing to them, talking about what was happening. Dean wanted to know, wanted to help. After all, he'd helped _them_ with _their _war. It was what friends did. Well, what friends who were hunters and angels did.

"If there's anything we can do-"

"There isn't." Cas wasn't being cold, just honest. He looked pained as he continued. "I wish circumstances were different. Much of the time, I'd rather be here." Dean didn't say, but he'd rather Cas was with them too. He needed something normal in his life – normal by his standards. Not a soulless brother and a traitorous family and out-of-character creatures and who knows what else was screwed up in his life besides everything. Cas was still Cas, and he needed someone from the past to keep him together.

"Look, Cas, we know you got a steaming pile on your plate," he said empathetically. "There's no need for apologies." He hadn't done anything wrong. He was trying his best and they weren't exactly helping. But Dean wanted the angel to know he had their support. "We're your friends."

Cas looked down, his face filling with something – sorrow? Regret? Either of those had no place there after what Dean had just said. What was going through Cas' mind? But he turned to Sam, changing the subject. "Listen, Sam, we'll find another way," he promised.

Sam seemed less than impressed, even though the angel was still trying to help despite what he already had going on. "You really wanna help?" Sam gestured at the hideout. "Prison full of monsters. Can't just leave 'em, can't let 'em go." Soulless Sam was really starting to get on Dean's nerves. Dean watched as Cas nodded and vanished, obeying orders anyway. Sam had no right to be so rude when Cas had just saved their lives and was doing his best. Soul or not, it just wasn't acceptable.

Dean made a note to himself to try harder to make things easier on the angel.

**This chapter was really short, I know, but I'm going to write a second short chapter this week to make up for it. I'm in the midst of exams, but I couldn't just leave you guys hanging another week, so I figure two shorter chapters is better than no chapter. See you soon – likely Thursday, then back to normal.**


	15. AN

I am forever a horrible person and I'm sorry. So much is going on with school things and life things, and I really can't stick to the whole Tuesday thing, so I guess I'll just go back to posting once a week or so, whenever I can. Hopefully I'll get something done this week.

Sorry for being one of _those _kinds of people, not updating more frequently and all. I would love to write everyday but I've got so many things to do and by the end of it all I'm too drained to write. But I will get something, soon, I promise! Bear with me.


	16. Dirty Little Secret

_**06x17-18 ("My Heart Will Go On", "Frontierland")**_

"You realize that if they remember this, and then find out your new boyfriend is king of Hell-"

"I _know_, Crowley. They won't find out."

"Won't they? You seem awfully sure of that. People talk..."

Castiel had made the decision to allow the Winchesters to know about Balthazar unsinking the Titanic, and about Fate, and how they'd had to redo the whole sinking. He'd let the boys believe Balthazar had sunk it for his own purposes – it was Balthazar after all, the idea wasn't that far-fetched. In reality, Castiel had wanted the souls. He needed them for the war, to beat Raphael. The Winchesters didn't need to know, though.

Cas imagined Dean's reaction. _How could you? That's wrong, Cas._ He would be angry. He would see it as a black-and-white situation. And he wouldn't care if it was helping him win the war, helping him save the world, Dean's world. Sam, with his soul finally out of the cage, might be more sympathetic, but Dean would look down on him. In Dean's mind, there was right and there was wrong, no in-between. Cas knew what that was like – he'd lived that way his whole life, thinking what Heaven wanted was right and anything else wasn't – but he had changed his perspective, or so he thought. He was still a bit black-and-white about things, but now he fought for Earth, fought _against_ Heaven. And he did his best to protect the Earth, but in the worst ways.

Crowley was the worst way. Crowley was a bitch. He drove a hard bargain, was completely untrustworthy, put Cas on edge and just made him extremely uncomfortable. He hated Crowley, he hated demons, he hated all of it – but Crowley was the one willing to work with him, the one with the solution, the one who could help win the war. Crowley was like America – the guy nobody liked but had all the big guns. The guy you _needed_ on your side. So when Crowley approached Cas with the offer of souls, he'd accepted.

It wasn't his best move.

In time he would regret turning his back on Dean, going into Crowley's arms instead. He thought about it all the time, asking Dean for help, for something. He believed that Dean would know what to do, know the right way of going about all this. But he didn't go to Dean. He'd already messed things up enough as it was for the boy. He'd just gone through a year of pretending to be happy, and then another half a year with a soulless brother. Things were finally (sort of) picking up for him, and Cas wasn't going to drag him back down. He knew the boys were trying to track Eve, and that would be tough enough. Besides, this was Cas' war, and if he was leading his side, he needed to take control himself. So no, going to the Winchesters was out of the question. Back to plan Crowley.

Crowley's genius idea was Purgatory. It would be great, if they could get there. If not... But Crowley was confident in the plan, and Cas wasn't giving up just yet. With Purgatory backing him, Cas could defeat Raphael easily. And he just wanted it all to be over – to get away from Crowley, no more demon deals, no more fighting, no more lying to his only friends.

He hadn't seen the Winchesters in a few weeks, when a prayer went through to him. At once he knew it had been interceded – someone else was reading his mail. It was another angel, Rachel. She appeared and told him she would go see what they wanted, and then was gone.

"Are we done here?" Cas asked Crowley.

"Off to wait hand and foot on the humans?" Crowley smirked sarcastically.

"Rather them than you," Cas returned coolly, then tracked down Dean's call. He felt Rachel's presence at the Campbell compound, and flew there, catching the tail end of the conversation. It was less than friendly.

"Clearly you don't, or you wouldn't call him every time you stub your toe, you petty, entitled little pi-"

"Rachel. That's enough." Cas dismissed her and turned to the boys, who seemed annoyed by her and much happier to see him. "What do you need?"

"We figured out how to kill Eve," Dean told him. "But we need to go back in time."

"When?"

"March 5th, 1861," Sam said. "Sunrise, Wyoming. There's a phoenix, we have to kill it and get it's ashes."

The ashes of a phoenix could kill Eve. Cas could've figured that out if he'd tried. He wished he wasn't so busy all the time. He was sure this wasn't how friendship worked. He didn't deserve them. But he was trying to hold on to them anyway.

"Okay." He could do this. A bit of time travel was nothing, but it would show them he still cared. "I could just go myself if you'd like."

"No," Dean objected. "No. We go. Thanks Cas, but we have to go." Dean grinned, and Cas didn't understand if he was missing something.

Sam sighed. "He just wants to go because he loves everything about westerns."

"I'm not turning down this opportunity," Dean said, the grin still on his face. Cas almost smiled. Humans were so interesting. _Dean _was so interesting. He could torture and kill and fight fearlessly, he lived in a world of monsters and crazy, and everyone seemed to forget- _Cas_ seemed to forget that there was so much more to him than just being a hunter. And every time Cas learned something new about him, it was amazing. The little details that he memorized, that he could see fitting and piecing together Dean Winchester. Of the billions of humans he'd seen, he'd never been so fascinated with one. And that compelled him to want to keep him in his life.

_You care so much about him that you're doing exactly what he would _not _want you to do._ He couldn't ignore the nagging voice that, were he human, would keep him up at night. Instead, it crept into his mind every time he looked at Crowley, or Raphael, and mostly, Dean himself. The "trying to save his life" argument just wasn't enough. Because yeah, he might save the world, save Dean, but for the rest of the life that he would live because of Cas, he would spend hating Cas for doing what he was doing the way he was doing it. Working with a _demon_? It didn't get any lower. Even when Sam had done it – and Sam was his _brother_, the person he treasured more than anyone in the universe. Cas, he was just a friend, maybe, and easily disposable, unforgivable. Dean would want to kill him personally for going against him like this.

_Now's really not the time to think about this._ But this was all he _ever_ thought about. When it wasn't the war with Raphael, it was the war with himself. It was breaking him down. For the millionth time, he considered confessing to the boys and asking what the hell he should do, because he couldn't do this on his own. He needed help – their help. However, Dean interrupted his brain waves.

"Alright, let's get some sleep and be prepared to go tomorrow then," he told Sam with finality. "Cas, can we call you tomorrow and have _you_ actually pick up the phone?" Realizing he was being dismissed, Cas nodded and left before his face could give away anything. He'd wanted to talk, but of course they didn't care. What were the woes of one angel when they were trying to save the world for the hundredth time? He didn't matter to them; only when they needed him.

"You look upset," Crowley said mockingly as Cas reappeared in the room with him. "Not a fun visit with your pets? Have to clean out the litter box again?" Cas decided to go to Heaven for some privacy. He didn't need Crowley making fun of him, or anyone bothering him just then. After a few minutes, he cleared his head, and carried on. In the midst of war, those five minutes of down time were precious.

The next day, Cas heard Sam praying around eleven for him to come down. He quickly calculated in his mind how much time he could spare them before having to retrieve them again, and told Sam about it. He'd be lucky to buy them a full day. Dean came in just then with bags of clothing – so they would fit in with the times. He and Sam bantered over wearing the stuff, which Cas found amusing.

"You have a fetish," Sam told Dean, annoyed.

"Shut up," Dean returned. "At least wear the damn shirt." Sam sighed and took the bag Dean was holding out to him, heading upstairs. Dean followed, and moments later they both returned.

"You going to a hoedown?" Bobby teased.

"Is it – is it customary to wear a blanket?" Cas wondered at Dean's sarape. He didn't remember it ever being in fashion.

"It's a _sarape_," Dean corrected, looking proud. "And yes."

Cas didn't bother to question further. Dean was just odd. "I'll send you back to March 4th. That should give you time to find the Colt... and this Phoenix creature."

"All right, well," Dean said, and then grinned suddenly. "See ya at High Noon tomorrow." He clicked his tongue, looking so pleased with himself. Sam rolled his eyes. Without warning, Cas felt himself being summoned, and quickly sent the boys off before telling Bobby he had to go.

"Pray for me in twenty-four hours, and I'll return," Cas commanded when Bobby hesitated to let him go. Bobby sighed as Cas vanished. He found himself in an abandoned warehouse a second later, and turned to see Rachel standing there.

"We need to talk," she told him. He tried to speak, but she continued on without hearing him. "Castiel, I've been hearing things. Things I don't want to believe. Just tell me if it's true."

"If what's true?" It was sad that he had to ask that. Because he _wasn't _sure what she was asking about. Crowley, Purgatory, something else? He was keeping so much crap lately, who knows what she was referring to.

"You _know_," she pressed. "Your dirty little secret."

He guessed it was about Crowley and the Purgatory souls. "I have to defeat Raphael." Did she think he wanted to be in his position? Dealing with the devil, causing chaos in Heaven? Of course he hated himself for it. But this was how it had to be.

"Not this way, Castiel." She said it like there was _another _way. You didn't back out on the devil. You didn't say no to Crowley. After all of it... it was a little late to change the plans. _See what your freedom gets you? You choose your path and you still can't get it right._ "We put our faith in you, and... look what you're turning into."

"I don't have a choice," he told her, voice aching.

"Then neither do I," she said, pulling her angel blade. He reacted too slow, and took a hit, but it wasn't enough to kill him.

He almost wished it was.

His own army turning on him might just be the final straw. Watching her fall to her death because he won the fight was symbolic to him, to everything he did. Everyone who cared about him was destroyed by him. He'd turned out to be one hell of a Winchester – and even they wouldn't want him if they knew.

Rachel's wound was detrimental, and Cas could hardly get himself back to Bobby's. He distantly remembered drawing a warding sigil before he was swept into unconsciousness.

"

Angels didn't enjoy the relief of sleep, nor did the ever experience dreaming. But pulled under oblivion's waves, Cas felt a period of release, from everything. For a moment, he was safe, floating in a pond of feathers. The air around him flowed in soft shades of cerise and azure, and everything was so _peaceful._ Reality was forgotten, pushed into the back of his mind so this harmonic bliss could take centre stage. How could this be any better?

Something cut into the air, swirling the clouds as they moved to make way for whatever it was. No, not what, _who_. And not just any who, Dean. Not his solid, physical form, but his soul, and Cas was made aware that he was not in his vessel, but in his true form also. But something was different about Dean – he wasn't the shattered, crumbling mess of a soul he'd been since long before Cas had met him. He was whole, healed, perfect. He let off an aura of true innocent happiness, like in those tiny moments when he was allowed in real life – the joy of going to the wild west, or seeing his brother with a smile on his face, or those rare moments when he'd been with Ben and Lisa and almost convinced himself he was happy. In this ... dream, if that's what it was, Dean was carefree too.

He didn't speak, just approached. Words weren't necessary. The nearer he drew, the more Cas could see about him, and he knew the same went for Dean. And as his light touched Cas', it seemed to fade – but maybe it was because Cas' light was brighter than Dean's soul, and it was just an illusion. But no, Dean's aura was changing, dimming, and Cas could see fissures of black weaving into him. He couldn't understand – just seconds ago Dean had been perfect, and now he was falling apart. He grew darker, consumed by a blackness, an evil that cracked him wherever Cas was near. And Cas realized it was _he_ who was destroying Dean, and as soon as he saw this, he tried to back away, but Dean was attached.

"I see what you've done, Cas," Dean's voice resonated. "I can see it... the darkness... It's killing you, Cas." His voice was growing fainter, his soul almost lost to the shadows. "I can help you, Cas..."

"Get away from me!" Cas screamed. "I'm killing you! Dean, get back!"

"I can help you, Cas," he repeated. "Let me help you..."

He was gone. And out of the blackness, Dean's body dropped in front of Cas. He wasn't breathing, his eyes closed, and covered in blood – his own. Dead. Cas had killed him, he knew it. He had done this to him. Despite this, he couldn't stop himself from moving closer to the body, staring at his broken friend.

"Dean... I'm sorry..."

Then, to his surprise and horror, Dean's eyes opened – and they were black. Cas jumped back, inexplicably terrified of the demon that he could easily smite. He didn't know what held him back until Dean spoke.

"You did this to me." It wasn't just any demon. It was _Dean_. Dean was a demon. "This is your fault. You ruined everything. You messed it all up. It's _your _fault – all of it! Everything that happens, to the world, to _me_, that's on _you!_ You destroyed me, Cas, and I won't forgive you until you're _dead!_"

Cas felt the world lurch, felt the ground fall out from under his feet, and suddenly he was back at Bobby's, sitting up and gasping. It took him a second to recall his situation.

"Cas!" Bobby was there, and he had questions. "You like you went twelve rounds with truckasaurus. What happened?"

What had happened? _Dean hates me. I did this to myself. I deserve this._ No, that hadn't been real. What had _really _happened? Why had Cas passed out in the first place?

_Rachel_. Right. He explained briefly what had happened with her to Bobby, and then tried to get up, but the world was spinning at a nauseating angle, and Bobby pushed him back down gently.

"How bad's it hurt?" Bobby asked him, and Cas knew he was asking for a physical analysis. On a scale of one to ten, six – maybe seven. Physically.

"I'll heal."

Dean didn't know. Dean didn't hate him. Dean couldn't be hurt by it. But it still felt so real, so true... Cas was tearing him apart with his actions, and Dean didn't even know it. He stayed ever close to Cas as Cas stabbed him in the back over and over. He offered to take the knife and stab himself, make it easier for Cas. But one day he would find out the truth, one day the light wouldn't blind him anymore, and he would make himself Cas' enemy. It was the absolute worst thing Cas could imagine – worse than not being able to save him, worse than watching him die, or never being able to see him again. Dean being alive and well, and _choosing_ to hate Cas... That was his hell. And working with Crowley meant he was in Hell.

"Good," Bobby interrupted his thoughts. "'Cause we got less than an hour before you pick up the kids at Frontierland."

What? Oh yes, Dean and Sam, back in 1861, needing to get home. But he couldn't do it. He was still down for the count, and he was afraid to approach another angel in case they'd all turned on him too. Undoubtedly they all knew about Rachel by now, and some of them probably knew why she was dead. So they would figure out that, yes, Cas was doing the dirty with demons. He couldn't trust them. There was no other option, except...

"Your soul," he told Bobby. "I need you to let me touch it." This clearly mystified Bobby. "The human soul – it's pure energy. If I can siphon some of that off, I-I might be able to bring Sam and Dean back." If, of course, he didn't kill Bobby in the process. It was a delicate thing, and he warned Bobby of this, but he was game.

Cas composed himself – he needed his mind clear so he could focus only on the task – but he couldn't shake the dream. _Now's not the time. There's a life at stake here. And you could lose Sam and Dean forever._ But... maybe that wouldn't be so bad. They would never find out what he was doing, they wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of all his crap... Life was simpler back then, and besides, Dean liked the time period anyway. They wouldn't know, they'd just assume something had gone wrong... But no, there were too many flaws in that plan, and Cas was just selfish enough that he wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. So he went through with the soul-touching process – which was a horrible experience for both him and Bobby – and when he was powered up enough, and with literally a second to spare, he summoned the boys back.

They returned without the ashes, and Cas was too worn out by the soul ordeal with Bobby to even be angry. Yeah, they'd screwed up – what else was new? And it wasn't as if he was any better. Missing out on some phoenix ashes wasn't worse than associating with Crowley.

But they were incredibly lucky. Samuel Colt sent them the ashes – in the mail, where it waited a hundred and fifty years to be delivered to them just moments after they'd seen him. It was amazing how crazy their lives could be. But there it was. And they had the ashes.

"We take the fight to her."

"

"They got the ashes, to kill Eve." Cas didn't know why he was telling Crowley. But the information could be useful in their search for Purgatory – Crowley had a new idea that they could go through Eve, being the queen of that pit and whatnot. The ashes, of course, were useful – a bribe and a way to kill her when they got what they wanted from her; because she was dangerous, and neither of them knew exactly how much. They weren't taking chances.

"Good. Now take your dogs for a walk, and bring the bitch back to me."

**This was short. I'm sorry. I haven't written in forever but I'm going to write another chapter tomorrow (I promise! For real, one hundred percent) so hopefully that will sort of make up for it.**


	17. Doubt

_**06x19-20 ("Mommy Dearest", "The Man Who Would Be King")**_

Getting Sam's soul back hadn't been the most fun experience in Dean's life, but even Death seemed to favour the Winchesters, and their luck held out once again. But Death's wall-in-Sam's-mind plan wasn't solid, and it made Dean nervous. He was on tip-toe with Sam the first little while, until Sam came to him apologizing for the horrible things he'd done. _How _had he found out? Apparently, Cas had betrayed them and told Sam all about his soulless adventures. _Friggin' angel_. They probably should've warned him about their plan, and how Sam _wasn't_ supposed to know about anything. But there was no evident damage, so they seemed to be off the hook this time.

The next couple months were pretty easy-going, killing some of the usual suspects, being tossed around by angels – _Balthazar _– and sent to alternate universes. Just another day in the life. Dean heard from Ben, and found out Lisa was dating someone new – a nice guy named Matt. Good for her. Yes, Dean hated the thought that he was losing them, his apple-pie life, his _normal_ family, but really – had it ever been in the cards anyway? At least they were moving on, being happy. Safe in their monster-free lives.

And then Eve came along, and once again, the Winchesters went from being regular hunters to we-must-be-in-the-middle-of-everything little shits. They began researching her in every way they knew how; Sam scoured the internet, Bobby pored over his books, and Dean called Cas.

Out in the yard, sitting on the hood of the Impala, he started praying. "Cas, we've got something new – or old, I dunno – and we could use your help. This bitch named Eve, she's... We think she slipped out of Purgatory, and-"

Dean heard the sound of his wings, and turned to see the man in the trench coat. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey. Uh, I know you're busy, so I'll just – about Eve-"

"You said she came from Purgatory?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "She's sort of like, the queen of that hell. The monsters call her 'mother'. Do you know anything about her?"

"Yes. Well, I've heard of her. She was around before me," Cas explained.

"Any chance you know how to kill her?" Dean asked. "Before she kills us?"

"I'm sorry, no," Cas sighed. "I'll look into it."

"Thanks, Cas." They stared at each other for a moment, and Dean wished he knew how to comfort the angel. He looked so tired, worn, even a bit edgy. Damn Raphael. "Is there anything _you _need, Cas?"

The angel looked down, and then his eyes flicked back up to Dean's. For a fleeting second, his eyes looked desperated, pleading. But then he shook his head. "No, Dean. This war is... tough, I don't want to bring you into it."

"That's what friends are for, Cas," Dean told him lightly, remembering all the times he'd called on Cas when they were trying to stop the apocalypse. "To help each other out."

Cas gave him a heartbreakingly sad smile, and then evaporated. _Damn it_. At least he had Cas looking into the Eve situation now. That didn't make him feel much better. One of his only friends was struggling, and he was just sitting back and watching.

It took them a couple of weeks, but they found a (hopefully) surefire way to kill Eve – phoenix ashes. And they were just lucky enough to stumble upon a phoenix when Dean found the journal of Samuel Colt. They were supposed to be looking for information about phoenixes and Eve, but he saw the journal and couldn't resist giving in to his inner nerd – and fortunately, it wasn't a waste of time, because Samuel said he'd killed a phoenix back in his day. So they got Cas to send them back in time – another awesome moment; getting to go to the actual wild west was like a late birthday present – and they got the ashes (in a very roundabout matter, but got them they did, and that's what mattered).

"You know what this means?" Dean said. "It means, we bring the fight to her." They could kill the bitch. They had their way, they just needed a where. How exactly did one find Eve? They could ask a monster, because they were all in tune with Eve-radio, but what monster was going to tell them? It wasn't exactly like there were _good_ monsters... Or were there? Maybe... Dean couldn't deny that in his time, one or two monsters hadn't been the epitome of evil. They were almost... good. Or at least, more human than monster.

They sent Cas off to find them a Casper, and he came back with someone they knew – Lenore, leader of a vampire pack who didn't feed off humans. She told them where Eve was, told them that Eve could see them through her so if they went after her, she'd expect them. And then Lenore asked them to kill her. They hesitated, unwilling, and Cas stepped in, putting her to rest.

"We needed to move this along." A minute later, packed and as ready as they were gonna get, Cas teleported them to Grants Pass, Oregon, where Eve was supposed to be. It was too... pleasant to be a monster cave. It made Dean nervous. What was Eve doing here...

"Where do we start?" Dean asked.

"I'm gonna need a computer," Bobby said.

"And I'm gonna need breakfast," Dean added. They headed to a diner, and Sam gave Bobby his iPad – which Bobby was less than thrilled about, and Dean couldn't really blame him. Modern technology was too... no. It didn't matter, because Bobby wasn't finding anything suspicious anyway.

"I'll search the town," Cas told them. "Give me a moment."

But he didn't disappear. Was he just doing a mind sweep of the place? "Cas, we can still see you," Dean told him, puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm still here," Cas returned, frowning.

"Okay, well you don't have to wait on us." Cas concentrated harder. _Angel buffering_.

"Something's wrong," Cas said after a moment. "I'm blocked. I'm powerless. Something in this town is... it's affecting me. I assume it's Eve."

"Well that's great, because without your power, you're basically just a baby in a trenchcoat," Dean said snappily in frustration. Cas shot him an annoyed and slightly hurt look, then glared out the window pointedly. Sam raised his eyebrows, looking between Dean and Cas, then shook his head slightly in an "I-don't-wanna-be-in-the-middle-of-this" kind of way.

"I think you hurt his feelings," Sam muttered. _Oh, come on – I'm not wrong!_ But Dean felt a bit guilty. He just had no idea how to fix it. But Bobby interrupted the moment, telling them he'd found something somewhat suspicious. A doctor had called in a case that he couldn't identify. It wasn't much, but it was all they had, so Dean took Cas to go to the doctor's office, and Sam and Bobby went to his house.

"Cas," Dean began when they were alone. "Look, I – I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It doesn't matter, Dean," Cas interrupted. "I get it. I'm useless. I'm just in the way now."

"No, Cas-" Dean stopped walking, and Cas met his eyes. "You're not _useless_, okay? I mean, yeah, your mojo's pretty much your only card, but – I mean – you're not in the way, okay? Safety in numbers, and all that."

"You don't have to make up excuses."

Cas started walking again, but Dean grabbed his arm and spun him back around. "I _want_ you to be here, Cas. You're not a burden. You're a friend, and I trust you. We'll do what we can with what we've got. Might be a pain in the ass, but ... we're gonna figure this all out."

This seemed to have the opposite effect Dean was going for. Instead of earning a smile, Cas looked unbelievably small, broken, and full of regret. He dropped Dean's gaze, nodded once, and kept walking. By the time they got to the doctor's office, Cas was prickly and on edge again.

The doctor was gone, but they found the mysterious patient in a shed beside the office. The body was a mess, bloody and sticky and nasty. "What kind of doctor calls the CDC and then stashes the gooey corpse in the shed?" Dean asked.

"_I_ don't understand what's happening here," Cas answered, a bit defensive. They burned the body and went to meet Sam and Bobby at the dead-patient's house. They were planning to interrogate the roommates, but instead Cas pointed out a look-alike of the patient, and they guessed they were dealing with a shifter.

"Alright, Dean and me are gonna go in," Sam planned. "You two stay here and watch the door. If something comes out, shoot it."

"I'm fairly unpractised with firearms," Cas said a bit nervously.

"You know who whines?" Dean said, exasperated with Cas and all his crap by this point. "Babies." He walked past him and headed into the house with Sam. There they found a lot of dead shifters, and one who was still alive, for a few more seconds. He told them he and his friend had gone to a bar, they'd met Eve, and then his friend had gotten sick. Before he could say anymore, he was dead.

"Should we hit the bar?" Sam asked rhetorically. They went, filling Bobby and Cas in of the situation, and at the bar they found another massacre of vampire-wraith hybrids. Before they could get any leads, they were found out by the Sheriff, and, though Dean hid behind the bar, the other three were taken into custody.

_Damn it._ Dean followed the cops back to the police station, and hid outside the room they took Sam, Bobby, and Cas. When he heard Sam's shout, he burst into the room. The police were more hybrids. Dean saw one cornering Cas, who was defenseless, and beheaded it. This seemed to be effective. Then he went after the sheriff, who was attacking Sam, but Sam stopped him.

"Tie him up," Sam explained. "We can use him to find Eve."

While Bobby grilled the sheriff, Sam and Dean searched the place and found two boys tied up by the hybrids. They freed and tested the boys – and they turned out to be human. Ryan, the younger one, didn't speak, while the oldest, Joe, told them they had an uncle living fifteen miles out of town, and Dean promised to get them to him.

"Dean," Cas cut in quietly. "Can I have a word?" He pulled Dean aside. "We need to find Eve now. We need your help _here_."

"Hold your water," Dean told him. "We'll be back in a few."

"Dean," Cas resisted. "_Dean!_ Millions of lives are at stake here, not just two. Stay focused."

Dean felt like he was being chastised by an over-protective mom. "Are you _kidding_?"

"There's a greater purpose here," Cas said coolly.

There was always a greater friggin' purpose. That was the thing about angels, they were too damn apathetic. He told Cas off, and took the kids anyway. "We'll catch up."

When they came back, Bobby told them Cas had made the sheriff talk, although Cas had only given Bobby the address before giving them all the silent treatment. Dean didn't care if Cas wanted to be a little bitch about it. He didn't regret saving those kids.

The plan was, Sam and Dean would go in, Bobby and Cas would wait, and if the brother's screwed up, they took their chance. They had five phoenix-rounds, one for each of them and one spare. Dean was prepared for Eve, just like she thought she was prepared for them. He knew it wouldn't be easy to take the bitch down, so he'd taken the fifth round in a shot of whiskey – which, may it be known, had been disgusting, but not regretted.

Still, not everything went as expected. When Eve shifted into the appearance of their mother; the fact that she had turned the kid, Ryan, and he'd slipped right past their notice; and Crowley. Crowley was still alive. How? How was _that_ possible? Cas had killed him. But it was Crowley. He was smart, tricky, king of Hell and all that jazz. He wanted Purgatory, Eve wanted him dead. Dean wouldn't mind if they both offed each other. But he was hoping to take care of her tonight. He just had to pull the right strings.

When Eve had Cas and Bobby brought in, Dean was a bit nervous. He was hoping they wouldn't have to be on the battlefield – because if he took down Eve, the monsters would try and kill them. Now they were in the line of fire, and they were the ones who needed the most protection. But it was too late to do anything about it.

The way they looked at Eve, Dean knew they knew. There was slight recognizition on Bobby's face, as he tried to place Eve's. How did he know her? And old photograph that John had shown him? Or had he known Mary when she was alive? Had they been friends before he and John had been hunter-buddies? Dean wasn't too familiar with that story. But Bobby knew who she was, and Dean gained a sympathetic glance from him.

Cas on the other hand, wouldn't know Mary. Not as an old friend. But somehow, he knew it was her too. He glanced at Eve, and then at Dean, and something in his eyes must have given it away. Dean could almost hear the _I'm sorry_. He looked away. He didn't need their pity.

"Work for me," Eve told them. "It's a good deal."

"We don't work for monsters," Dean hissed. "And if that means you gotta kill us, then kill us!"

"Or..." Eve said slowly. "I turn you, and you do what I want anyway."

_Yes. _This was where they needed to go. She was behind him, teeth inches away from his neck, and just needing a little push. "Bite me."

She did, and it stung, sending a shockwave of pain through him. His vision blurred, and his gums and hands began to ache. It felt like his insides were churning – he'd been turned into one of her hybrid monsters.

"No!"

"Dean!"

He heard Sam and Cas cry out, unaware of what he'd done. But the bitch staggered back, and Dean knew he'd won.

"Phoenix ash," he said weakly, but still cocky. "One shell, one ounce of whiskey – down the hatch." She flashed back to her original form, and started oozing dark liquid from... everywhere, before collapsing to the ground. Dead. Her monster friends when rabid, but with Eve dead, Cas' powers were back. He yelled at them to shut their eyes, and when Dean opened his again, all the monsters were dead. Then Cas touched Dean's shoulder, and he felt the pain fade out. He was a human again.

Speaking of humans...

"We gotta go, now."

"Where?" Cas asked. He hadn't been there when Eve told them about Ryan.

"The little kid, he's one of them."

Cas inhaled deeply, irritated. "Unbelievable," he muttered, glowering.

"I know Cas, you told me, alright? Let's just go." Cas shook his head in disbelief, but teleported them to the kids' uncle's house. "They could've turned half the town by now," Dean said angrily. Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Dean stopped him. "Don't. Say it."

They found the kids though, killed – by demons. They explained to Cas how Crowley was still alive, and his expression changed, to confusion.

"But... I burned his bones..." He didn't seem to want to believe it. Dean knew how he felt. "I don't understand."

"Well, he is a crafty son of a bitch," Dean said sympathetically.

"I'm an _angel_," Cas reminded him. "I'll look into it immediately." And he was gone. Bobby and Sam shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" Dean asked, not following. "_What?_"

"How _did_ Crowley get away?" Bobby posed. "It's not like Cas to make mistakes like that. Unless-"

"Unless what?" What was he trying to say? Cas had burned the wrong bones intentionally? What did that even mean? "Bobby. This is _Cas_ we're talking about." Cas. An angel, who was on their side, the guy who'd turned on his own _family_ when he'd thought they were harmful to humans. He wouldn't work with _Crowley_. Dean turned to Sam. "Do you believe this?" No response. He couldn't actually think... "Sam?"

Sam sighed. "Look, it's probably nothing, it's just..." He trailed off. "You know what? You're right. It's probably nothing."

Dean didn't believe him.

"

Sam could tell that Dean would never accept the idea that Cas may be, just _maybe_, working against them. It was unusual for him, because normally it'd be him who would consider every possibility, no matter how small. Sam knew Cas had worked his way into Dean's heart, right next to him and Bobby, and he was one of those rare people where Dean wouldn't shoot first, ask questions later. In fact, Dean wouldn't shoot even if it turned out Cas was the bad guy. And it made it hard for Sam to work with his brother.

Don't get me wrong, Sam loved Cas. He was one of their closest friends, and he'd done so much for the team. And it hurt him that he was even thinking that Cas would betray them, but it was something they had no proof of or against, so the idea stayed. It got worse as the days dragged on, watching as Dean seemed to fall apart trying to protect Cas from them. He was harboring some bad feelings towards them, stuck in denial that Cas could do any wrong.

"You know, he's our friend," Dean told them one day. "And we are lying to him through our teeth. So he burned the wrong bones – so _Crowley_ tricked him! He can make a mistake!" But this was a serious mistake. There were too many holes. "You think that Cas is in with Crowley. _Crowley_?" Dean tried so hard to guilt them, to make them feel horrible for even _thinking_ his angel could have broken wings.

"Look, I'm praying we're wrong here," Sam said gently.

"But if we _ain't_," Bobby added. "That means we're dealing with a Superman who's gone dark side. Which means we've got to be cautious, we got to be smart, and maybe stock up on some Kryptonite."

He could tell Dean wouldn't accept it. He could see the turmoil in his brother as he tried to reason with himself – _you have to admit, they have a good argument – but no, this is Cas! He wouldn't – but what if they're right – what if they're _wrong_?_

But Cas slipped up. They were hunting a demon who might have a lead on Crowley, but when they found his hideout, it was clean – suspiciously, too clean. Any lead was gone.

"What now?" Sam wondered.

"We'd call Cas," Dean said quietly.

"What?"

"This is _usually_ the point where we would call Cas for help," Dean said harshly. That wasn't really a good plan though. Too bad Dean was blinded by his faith in his friend.

"We talked about this," Bobby began.

"No, _you_ talked. I listened," Dean corrected. "This is _Cas_, guys. I mean, when there was no one, and we were stuck – and I mean really stuck – he _broke ranks_. He has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freakin' times." He paused. "This is Cas! Don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt – _at least_?"

Dean was too stubborn to get around, so Sam decided that he would give Cas a chance. Maybe he deserved that much. He _was_ their friend.

"Castiel...This is really important, okay? We really need to talk to you," Sam prayed. But Cas didn't show. Dean tried, but still there was nothing.

"Cas is busy," he said in defense.

"That's alright," Sam told him, voice full of compassion. "We are too. Come on." He patted Dean on the arm as a gesture of kindness at the look on Dean's face. Worried, protective, as if he thought they would only judge Cas more for not showing. Sam tried not to do that. Cas _was_ in the middle of war. They had to give him a chance.

Just as they were leaving, Sam turned back and saw a demon jump Dean. There were three demons suddenly, each attacking one of them. Caught by surprise, they were all taken down. And then, the demons were killed, and Cas was standing there.

"It is good to see you, Cas," Dean said as he straightened up, smiling sincerely.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," Sam acknowledged him as he stood. "Perfect timing, Cas." So Cas just had been busy, and now he'd saved them again.

"I think we owe you an apology," Bobby admitted to Cas.

"We've been hunting Crowley this whole time," Sam confessed. "And keeping it from you."

Cas looked confused, no doubt wondering why they hadn't told him. Bobby explained. "We thought you were working with him." Cas stared in disbelief. "It's just that you torched the wrong bones- it doesn't matter. We - we were wrong."

"You know," Cas said, stepping forward, clearly displeased. "You could've just asked me."

"And we should have," Dean put in. Sam knew that was directed at him and Bobby, a sort of I-told-you-so. But he also seemed to be taking part of the blame, even though he'd been against the idea. "We never should've doubted you. It's...I just hope you can forgive us."

Cas met Dean's eyes, and Sam knew they were forgiven. Dean had some spell over the angel.

"It's forgotten," Cas said, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "It is a little absurd though... 'Superman going to the dark side'. I'm still just Castiel." Sam almost laughed, but then he realized... Bobby had said that. When they'd been talking about Cas. And Cas hadn't been there. How had he known...

When Cas left, Sam just stared at Dean, waiting. He could feel anger burning off him, burning into Dean, and knew Dean was in shock, couldn't believe it – _wouldn't _believe it. But he had to now. His eyes fell to the floor, and he shook his head slightly, face pinched tight, processing.

"Cas... He can't... He wouldn't..."

"Dean." Sam stepped forward cautiously.

"Don't!" Dean snapped. It looked like he was going to sink to the ground and break down right there. But he didn't. He held it together, walking out of the room. He stopped at the doorway, and without turning around, told them, "Go ahead. Talk about it. Talk about Cas, and me, and everything. I don't care anymore." Then he left.

They heard the Impala door open and close, and then the car drove off.

"

**Woo, Sam-POV at the end there. I've never done that before, and it probably won't come up too much, but it was fun to have that outsider's perspective. This was another short chapter, but this chapter, the previous, and the next chapter are sort of all like one big chapter that I've split up. I might write the next part today – but I've been writing for like 3 hours now so I'm gonna take a break. Might see you later, if not, sometime this week.**

**Reviews are wonderful & very helpful! If you have ideas I could add or ways I could improve this, let me know!**


	18. Can't Turn Back Now

_**06x20 ("The Man Who Would Be King")**_

Cas was lying to them.

_Cas was lying to them._

Cas. His best friend. The angel who had fallen when he asked him to. Who helped him when he needed it. Who cared about him, which was something Dean was not accustomed to people doing.

Or, he'd thought Cas had cared.

He was working with Crowley. Lying, spying, trying to find _friggin' Purgatory_. With _Crowley._ Dealing with the freaking devil. And keeping it from them. Damn, he'd turned out to be the perfect Winchester. Was he really doing this? It had to be a mistake.

Dean's mind was so clouded by anger, and more by hurt, that he didn't even know where he had ended up driving. It was half an hour before he was even aware of anything that wasn't this betrayal. He'd had people rip into his chest and tear his heart out before, but this, this metaphorical heartbreak seemed a thousand times worse. It ate into his skull, jellified his limbs, made him feel so heavy and weak and _dead_ inside… This was so much more painful than it should've been, but he couldn't rationalize himself. He just knew that this – this was agony.

He should've known. _Why hadn't he known?_ Sam and Bobby had figured it out, and _told him_ over and over, and he hadn't heard it, hadn't believed it. This was _Cas_. He _couldn't _do this. Not to them. Not to him. They'd only been friends a short time, but they'd saved the friggin' world. They were closer than almost anyone Dean ever knew. They were comrades, friends, brothers. And Cas had said they had a "profound bond", and Dean believed it. What had gone wrong?

Their year apart had somehow brought Cas to Crowley. Why? It didn't make any sense. _Maybe he's not…_ Dean still wanted to believe Cas _wasn't_ in it with him, but what was the point? He'd already denied Cas being able to do anything against him, and clearly that blind faith had stabbed him right in the back. _But it's Cas…_ So? Cas wasn't perfect. Cas could betray him. Whoever said Cas even _gave a damn_ about him, honestly? He tried so hard to reason out any way to make Cas not seem like the bad guy, but… he just didn't know anymore. He was so wounded by this new twist, he wasn't sure whether he wasn't just defending Cas because he didn't want to get hurt even more.

His phone rang and he didn't bother answering it, knowing it would be Sam and not caring what he had to say. But he turned the car around and started to head back, in no rush. By the time he returned to the demon hideout, he had composed himself enough to face his brother again.

"Dean!" Sam said when he saw him. Dean braced himself, waiting for him to yell, but he didn't. Instead, he gave him a puppy-eyed stare full of compassion. "I'm sorry, De-"

"Don't be, you didn't do anything," Dean snapped. "You were right. You knew all along. I was just too dumb to see it." He just didn't _want_ to see it.

"Dean, he's one of your closest friends," Sam told him gently. "Of course y-"

"Obviously, he's not," Dean said coldly. "He's working with freaking Crowley doing God-knows-what."

"We don't know that fer sure," Bobby put in. "All we know is-"

"Don't even bother trying to protect him, okay? He's been lying to us all! He's probably known where Crowley was the whole time, since they're freaking the best of pals! Cas has just _fucked up_ and turned on us and – and-" He started losing control of his emotions, clenching his jaw tightly. Their sappily sympathetic faces weren't helping any. "He's a dick!"

"What d'you wanna do, Dean?" Sam asked quietly after a moment.

"I wanna freaking kill him! Kick his friggin' ass back into line!"

"Dean-"

"Sam, you know what? I _considered_ making a bad move once, and he beat the holy hell outta me!" Dean said harshly, recalling the alleyway. "He's working with _Crowley_."

"We don't know that," Sam echoed Bobby. "Dean, I know you're pissed, and we all are, but you're acting crazy. I don't trust him right now, I know. But we can't just _assume._ We need to talk to him."

"He'll lie. What the hell do you think he's been doing to us for the past friggin' year?"

"We'll trap him, make him talk." Dean bit his lip, rolling his eyes in frustration. He was so confused over the angel, mad and devastated and wrecked, and he wanted to scream or cry or punch someone, but he told himself Sam was right. That Cas was horrible and unforgiveable maybe, but he at least had to hear Cas tell him that yes, he was working with Crowley. Because if he didn't hear it, he would always doubt it. And he couldn't bear to think about the torture that would be, forever wondering and not knowing. So he watched as Bobby left to fetch the holy oil from the trunk, and sat down at a table, doubting he'd be able to hold himself steady on his feet much longer. Sam sat with him.

"Dean," Sam said softly. "You've gotta calm down. I know it's hard. He's one of your best – and only – friends. But if he comes and suspects anything – if he sees you seething at him, he's gonna flee before we get a chance to say anything. You know him, better than any of us. You've gotta find a reason that he's innocent, and you've gotta hold on to it with everything you've got. You trusted him, and I know damn well that means a lot because you never let anyone in. So I get it. It's worse when they break you down from the inside. But you trusted him, because you knew you could, and you can't throw it away just yet. Not before you get a yes or no." He stared at his brother. Sam was angry too, but it wasn't affecting him nearly as much as it was Dean, and they both were very aware of that. But he was still trying to reason with him. And what he was saying made sense. Dean hated Cas, he hated him for being able to get inside and damage him like this, so damn easily. Like it was nothing. Like it didn't take _so much_ for Dean to even think about opening up to someone, and here Cas had burrowed into his heart and completely taken advantage of it. Now he was forcing Dean to reach in and tear him out, and it was like watching him die. Except, when he'd watched Lucifer explode Cas, Dean didn't have time to feel the loss. Nothing was distracting him now.

_Listen to Sam. You can't know if Cas and Crowley are in it or not. Relax. At least a bit._ He focused on his breathing until it was peaceful, or until Bobby came back with the oil, John's journal, and a bottle of whiskey with a couple glasses. Dean immediately poured himself a drink a shot it back, before taking another.

"You gonna be alright, Dean?" Bobby asked cautiously. Dean nodded slowly, forcing himself to be positive. He waited until Bobby made a circle with the oil, and then he prayed.

"Castiel," he began, telling himself it was just another prayer. He could picture the man in the trench coat smiling, which he so rarely did. And he wouldn't be doing in their next conversation… _Don't think about it. You're just gonna talk to him._ Cas was able to read him like a book, right? He needed to block out any bad thoughts. "We need you for a little pow wow down here, so… come on down." He didn't want to say the words. He was half-hoping Cas wouldn't show. But he heard the grunted "hello", and that was it.

Cas was there, looking so innocent, and Dean forgot for a second that things might be very bad between them. But there was the tiniest second where Cas seemed nervous, and the words that followed that brought Dean back to the harsh reality. "You're still here." Confusion. An attempt at curiosity to hide the worry in his voice.

"Yeah, we had to bury the bodies."

Dean hadn't even noticed the demons were cleared out, but he played along. "And we found a little whiskey. Thanks for coming." That was the end of his charade. He knew the next words to come out of his mouth would be venomous, so he let Sam and Bobby take over.

"We have a new plan," Sam said hesitantly, then more firmly, "We think we've finally figured out a way to track down Crowley."

Again, Cas looked nervous for a fleeting moment as he spoke. He approached them, and walked right into the circle. "What is it?"

Bobby lit a match, dropping it on the floor. "It's you."

The flames surrounded Cas, and his eyes widened fearfully. "What are you doing?" He spun to look at all of them, trying to find who would be easiest to plea to. His eyes landed on Dean.

"We gotta talk," Dean said, half to himself. _Just talking._

"About what?" Cas said, looking like a child, the flames making his eyes seem nearly black. "Let me go!" He was afraid, it was clear in his voice, his face, his movements. He'd been anticipating this for a while. Dean hated seeing Cas in this position, but the feeling paled in comparison to the increasingly obvious truth staring him in the face; _yes, Cas was working against them_.

"About Superman, and kryptonite." _The things you know that you shouldn't. And the things you haven't been telling us._

"How'd you know what I said?" Bobby shot at him.

"How long have you been watching us?" Sam threw in.

"You know who spies on people Cas? Spies!" And spies weren't trustworthy. They were liars, double agents.

"Okay, just wait. I don't even know what you mean!" _You know exactly what we mean, Cas. Let's just get this over with._ Sam and Bobby shot more questions at him, and Dean could see him fidgeting anxiously. His eyes flitted everywhere, not looking at any of them. He tried to plea, bargain, feign innocence, and it just hurt to watch. "It's hard to understand – it's hard to explain! Just let me go – let me out and I can-"

"You gotta look at me, man," Dean said, voice dangerously soft. Cas obeyed immediately, meeting his eyes and giving him that longing, desperate gaze that could melt him. "You got to level with me and tell me what's going on. Look me in the eye and tell me you're not working with _Crowley_." His voice cracked, and he swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. _Please Cas…_ Cas stared, his lips moving to form words, but then he dropped his eyes. Dean's heart plummeted. "Son of a bitch." It came out much less angry, much more broken than he'd intended. And Cas heard it, looking up at him again.

"Let me explain-"

"You're in it with him? You and Crowley have been going after Purgatory together?" Dean's voice was almost shaking as it all pieced together. Cas didn't deny anything either. Some of the anger seeped back into his voice, but it was unmatched by the aching in his chest. "You have, huh? This whole time."

"I did it to protect you," he told Dean, then added more defensively, glancing to Sam and Bobby, "I did it to protect all of you!"

Dean barely heard anything for a moment. His ears were ringing, throat tight. This wasn't real. Cas somehow thought what he was doing was right and good? But he was still pleading with Dean, even when Bobby tried to avert his attention. Dean just shook his head as Cas tried to explain. He wanted the souls from Purgatory to stop Raphael.

"Raphael will kill us all. He'll turn the world into a graveyard." _It doesn't matter, Cas. You could've asked us for help. _Maybe this was partially Dean's fault. He hadn't tried to contact Cas once in that year, and that was probably when Cas would've needed him most. But Cas still could've come to him. He would've dropped everything to help him out… "I had no choice."

"No," Dean corrected. "You had a choice. You just made the wrong one." _I was your friend Cas. You owe me that. You could've asked me for anything. What the hell made you think _Crowley_ was the better option?_

"You don't understand," Cas said icily. "It's complicated." There was emphasis on the last word, like he was implying that Dean couldn't comprehend his angel drama. Like it was all above him. But no, Dean could've led him in the right direction. He could've avoided all of this. He could've kept Cas…

"No, actually, it's not," Dean returned. "And you know that. Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong?" It was just him and Cas in the universe. Cas could've convinced him of it, the way his eyes burned into Dean's. "When crap like this comes around, we _deal_ _with_ _it_. Like we always have. What we _don't_ do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil!"

"It sounds so simple when you say it like that," Cas mumbled, and Dean could hear a thousand years of regret in his words. "Where were you when I needed to hear it?"

"I was there," Dean said. "Where were you?" Cas' eyes were distant for a second. _You were running to Crowley. _But for a second Dean wondered. If maybe Cas had considered going to him, but something had changed his mind. He didn't want to believe that was the case but… Sam had been the same way. He'd seen Dean with Ben and Lisa and thought he was happier, better without them. Had it been like that with Cas? "You should've come to us for help, Cas."

Just as Cas whispered the word "maybe", they all caught the sound of a distant roaring wind. Dean knew it wasn't natural. "It's too late now," Cas said, looking around at the windows and ceiling, anticipating an attack. "I can't turn back now. I can't."

"

"It's _not_ too late," Dean was almost begging. "Damn it, Cas, we can fix this!"

_No_. There was nothing for Dean to fix, for one thing. Cas still valued him above everything else – why else would he be going through all the trouble to save him and his damn world? But Dean was stubborn, and Cas didn't have time to make him understand. Crowley was undoubtedly coming, with a small army. He needed them out. "Dean, _it's not broken!"_ Dean frowned, but they were out of time. Cas could see the demon swarm approaching. "Run," he told them. "You have to run!" They didn't react. "Run!" he shouted. It seemed to sink in then, and they all jumped into action, heading for the door. He watched them go, and he knew he wouldn't be getting out of the flames, but he wished he could've gone with them, explained. He _needed_ to explain, he needed them to know this wasn't a bad thing…

Dean reached the door first, but let Bobby through, then Sam. He hesitated, glancing back at Cas and staring at him wildly, indecisive. It was only for a few seconds, but it said everything. Simply, it said _I'm sorry. _For leaving him alone, for not being there, and now for not being able to trust him. Cas knew this was what humans considered to be tragedy, a heartbreak. This pain that was part of being human… it just wasn't worth it.

And then Dean was gone, and the pain turned unbearable, and Cas shut down, locking it away. Crowley was there, and Cas was filled with loathing at the sight of the demon. _He_ was the reason this was all happening now, why he was losing Dean, losing everything. _Winning the war_. Screw the war – he'd've given it up by now if the world wasn't in the balance. Better to be dead than lose his friends. He'd make it up to them though, once he defeated Raphael. He'd stay away from Crowley, kill him maybe, just for good measure. He had to tell Crowley off in the present, because otherwise he might kill him then and there. Crowley just mocked him and left him alone to think over everything. How he should've gone to Dean, shouldn't have lied, shouldn't have _come here_ when they'd called without looking into what they wanted. He'd assumed they trusted him again. But he'd messed up, and now everything was that much worse.

Sorrow weighing on his heart, he flew to Bobby's to await them, and explain. But his courage fell short when he heard the rumbling of the Impala, and he didn't reveal himself. He watched as Bobby drew sigils around the house – messing up a few. He saw Dean consuming large quantities of alcohol and not talking to Sam, or doing anything else. After an hour, Sam said goodnight to him, and he and Bobby left him alone. When they were gone, Dean buried his face in his hands, attempting to cope, and hold it together. This was as hard on him as it was on Cas. The angel longed to appear and comfort him, but he knew it wouldn't be wise; in this emotional state, Dean would just resort to anger in defense. So instead Cas just watched as Dean took out his frustration on a pillow, punching it, his face pinching as he tried not to cry. He lay there, taking an age to fall asleep, and Cas knew if he wanted to talk to him, now was the time. Everyone was asleep, Dean was calmed down. He needed to make his move. But something held him back. Fear. Not of Dean being angry, or throwing a punch – that would hurt Dean more than him – but of Dean hating him. If he explained and was still unforgiven. Cas didn't know how he would deal with it. _He might understand. You have to _make_ him understand. Whatever it takes._

He entered the room in body, wings stirring the air and alerting Dean. His eyes fluttered open and he rubbed at them, not seeing Cas at first. But then he was sitting up hurriedly, for a second fearful of the intruder. Cas picked up on the stutter in his heart beat, and muttered a soft "Hello, Dean". There was recognition, and then Dean bristled slightly.

"How'd you get in here?" he asked quietly. The anger was there, but it was muted, buried under a more prominent mess of emotions that Cas couldn't quite decipher.

"The angel-proofing Bobby put up on the house," Cas explained, seeing Dean glance to the sigils marking the windows. "He got a few things wrong."

Dean frowned, pushing himself up off the couch. "It's too bad we gotta angel-proof it in the first place, isn't it?" The words were half-sad, half-accusatory. "Why are you here?"

Cas took a step closer, feeling more comfortable, more in control the more intimate they were. "I want you to understand –"

"Oh believe me, I get it," Dean assured him. Did he? His voice was too harsh for Cas to trust it. "Blah blah, Raphael, right?"

He couldn't let Dean get into that stubborn, unswerving mindset. He needed to get under his skin, say something Dean would hold onto and maybe allow the possibility of Cas going forth with his plan. He wanted Dean's permission, because it meant something to him. "I'm doing this for you, Dean," Cas told him, and Dean seemed surprised. But he had his attention. "I'm doing this because of you-"

Dean snorted. "Because of me, yeah." He turned away, laughing it off, but Cas could tell he was wondering. Doubting mostly, but considering it. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"You're the one who taught me… that freedom, and free will-"

Dean spun around, aggravation irritating his words. "You're a friggin' child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want!"

It bit into Cas, and he lashed back defensively. "I _know_ what I'm doing, Dean." He didn't want it to go this way. A nauseating nervousness crept into the back of his mind. _Dean, you have to trust me. Please. I don't want to do this without you, but I don't have a choice. Whether you back me on this or not, I have to go through with it. I'm saving you, why can't you see that?_

Dean seemed beyond frustrated, and Cas expected him to throw up his hands or roll his eyes, but he just glared at Cas. "I'm not gonna logic you," he hissed. "Okay? I'm saying _don't_, just 'cause. I'm _asking_ you not to, that's it." Cas tried to interrupt, to say he didn't understand why the hell Dean couldn't see that if he didn't do this, it was the apocalypse all over; that they had nearly been destroyed stopping the last one, and it wasn't gonna be any better the second time around, but Dean cut him off. "Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest thing I have to family – that you are like a brother to me. So if I'm asking you _not_ to do something…" The severity faded. "You gotta trust me man."

Cas knew that being considered family to Dean was immense. Everyone he'd ever loved or been close to had died, and there was no one who could break his barriers these days. He didn't just care about people anymore – it was too risky in this kind of life. But Dean said Cas was one of the few… Family. Dean valued family to be more important than anything in the world. He would do whatever was best for them, whatever the stakes. He would've let the apocalypse happen before he handed Sam to Lucifer, that's how much he cared about family. It made Cas wanna drop everything, forget the world, and listen to Dean. Because it was _Dean_, and who was he kidding? Cas loved him. Enough to turn against his own kind for him. Twice.

But Raphael was still trying to rule Heaven, still threatening to end the world. Stopping now would only ensure humanity's destruction. What other way could they go? Where else could they find the power Purgatory was harbouring? It just wasn't logical… Dean wanted him to trust him, do this for him? _If I do this, you die. It's not an option._ "Or what?"

The look on Dean's face would burn forever in his mind. That he had just poured his heart into his words, gone and confessed to Cas something he'd never tell anyone – because Dean didn't want people to ever think he was weak, and he wasn't a man of words, but of actions – and Cas was still not listening to him... just stung. "Or I'll have to do what I have to do to stop you."

"You can't Dean. You're just a man – I'm an angel." Cas didn't really believe it. Dean had almost complete control over him. Because Dean was his Achilles Heel, his greatest weakness. And betraying him was the worst thing he could imagine – even after being to Hell, or being tortured by the might of Heaven; Dean held the greatest dominance over him.

"I dunno, I've taken some pretty big fish." The words were emotionless. He'd cut anything he felt towards Cas off. Dean was lost to him, and he knew it, and he felt like he would shatter, but he couldn't let it show. He looked down, fearing that his eyes would give him away. He knew Dean expected him to say something, but he just wanted to disappear.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

He wished he hadn't said that. It should've been something cold, harsh, unfeeling. Something that would make Dean believe he didn't care what he thought, that it wasn't killing Cas to walk away on bad terms with him. But he could've sworn, mixed in with the sound of the wind beneath his wings, he heard Dean say he was sorry too.

"

**Ugh, _I_ am so sorry for not writing in a month! I am inexcusable! I really just haven't had much motivation to write lately, but it's coming back to me now. I feel terrible, but hopefully that will hold me to updating again soon! Review me if you ever forgive me (although if you wait a month, it will be greatly deserved on my part). **

**ALSO, yesterday someone recommended me to the destielfanfic Tumblr blog, and I got a whole bunch of views, so thank you very much to whoever linked them, and also to whoever runs that blog for posting it!**


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